Bel and Sebastian
by ameliafireheart
Summary: Bel is a princess and an assassin, ordered to kill a bookish and bad tempered prince with a face defect as revenge for her mother's murder. But she fails and ends up being held as his hostage. Story is told in alternating POVs
1. Chapter 1 - Bel's POV

I reach for the revolver lying on my vanity table and hold it up for examination. It is lighter than my old one. This one is silver with a polished finish and almost seems like an extension of my own arm as I hold the grip and let my forefinger slip over the trigger. I aim at the large window and my finger pulls-but there is no shot. A lady never shoots a revolver in her own bedroom, and certainly not a princess. Not unless she absolutely must, of course.

Melia always tells me that a lady should never leave her house without pearls and a revolver. Rules like these, she said, were made for our own safety. I asked her why I needed pearls for my safety, and she proceeded to give me a list of ways that I could kill a person using only a string of pearls. Of course, this scared me half to death-but soon enough, there was an occasion where I had to make use of one of those suggested ways.

I put the revolver down beside a few bottles of scent, and I pick up my pearls. I wrap them around my neck, fasten them in the front, and twist them around before looking at myself in the mirror. I'm pleased with the outcome, and the ivory lace dress I wear fits me comfortably. It is quite a contrast with my brown skin and brings out my colour more, which my mother always liked. I feel the delicate fabric between my finger and thumb before smoothing it out again. The silk beneath the lace feels soft against my skin.

At that moment, Melia comes bursting into the room, ridden with anxiety about the ball. She is also flailing about strangely.

'Oh gods, Bel, what will I do? What on earth will I do?'

I turn around to face her and arch my eyebrow as I wear an amused smile. She is not amused by this and lets out a frustrated grumble. The space between her eyebrows wrinkle.

'Oh Melia,' I say, wagging my finger at her as I tut, 'a lady never grumbles.'

She is forever reminding me of the rules of being a lady, that I find it is time for her to have a taste of her own medicine. Suffice it to say though, that it does not go down very well.

'This is not a time for jokes!' she snaps at me. Her hands fumble around her waist, 'oh gods, I'm going to die.'

'Try breathing,' I say to her, with a grin that stretches from ear to ear, 'I hear that usually works well.'

My sarcasm flies over her head. Her hands are on my bed as she supports herself and she's breathing so rapidly that I think she might faint. I rush towards her and try to figure out what's the matter. I ask her, but all that comes out are shallow breaths. Her hand points to her back in such a frenzied way and I suddenly realise that her corset is just too tight.

Quickly, I untie the knot at the bottom and loosen the strings. Melia exhales heavily and almost collapses to the floor. I put my hand on my hip and stare at her, trying to suppress laughter.

Melia grabs a handful of the duvet and pulls herself up to standing position. In no quicker than five seconds, she has composed herself, and is wearing a dry smile.

'Why on earth was your corset so tight?' I ask her incredulously, 'in fact, why are you wearing a corset at all? You know it's difficult to move around in them.'

Melia rolls her eyes, 'it's that bloody Lila,' she says.

I open my mouth, 'a lady never swe-

'Oh hush,' she says, waving a hand dismissively in the air, 'those aren't rules. Just guidelines,' she grins demurely. 'Now we must get a move on. The carriage is waiting for us outside and Lady Elana is getting her corset in a twist-you know how much she despises lateness.'

I nod and glance at the revolver on my dresser. I pace towards it and lift my dress. Attached to my inner leg, there is a strap with a pocket for a blade, and a pocket for a revolver. I load the revolver, checking the safety straight after. Then I tuck it into the small pocket before letting my dress fall. A few strands of dark hair fall around my face and I brush them out of my eyes.

After sorting myself out, I turn around to Melia, who is finally ready. I smile at her and put a hand on my hip. 'Alright sister,' I say to her, 'let's go and kill and ourselves a Duke.'


	2. Chapter 2 - Sebastian's POV

Sebastian's POV

'I win again,' I grin, while Benjie whimpers angrily. Seeing him in this state is the highlight of my day. He snatches the chess piece of out my hand and puts it back where it was before. For a moment, his whimpers stop as he puts my chess piece a step back from where it previously was, all so he can make a different move. He moves one of his pawns, with a wide grin on his face, thinking he has won. His green eyes light up and he folds his arms, looking at me with great satisfaction.

'Oh no!' I say, pulling a shocked face.

Benjie laughs and his excitement makes his face turn pink.

'Oh but wait,' I say, reaching my hand out for my own pawn. I move it forward and sigh heavily, 'checkmate.'

All at once, Benjie bursts into a wail and he takes his head in his hands and begins to pull his black hair so hard that I'm sure he'll end up bald. He complains about how it isn't fair and starts to mess up all of the pieces until they are strewn all over the floor of my room.

'Benjie, calm down,' I say, 'you were close. Maybe you'll beat me one day.'

His expression turns into an angry frown, 'but I wanted to win today!' he says loudly, 'I never win! Why don't I ever win, it's not fair, it's not fair! Nothing is ever fair!'

I smile at him, but this doesn't stop him, so I reach out and take him in my arms and start swinging him around the air. His cries soon turn into giggles and his face is less like a grumpy old man's, and more like a normal six year old. I lightly let him fall onto a bed of cushions and fall to the floor myself, tired from all of the swinging. My breaths are short and rapid and I put a hand to my chest as if it will help me regain my breath.

I look at Benjie. He's rolling around in the silk and velvet cushions without a care in the world. As I watch him, I smile, but it fades. There are times, like these, where I wish that I was him-but I never wish that he is me. I could never wish that on Benjie.

I get up from the floor and begin to pick up all of the strewn chess pieces so neither I nor him step on them and yelp in pain-which has happened many a time before. As I have my back turned, I hear my door open, and the rhythm of the clack of heels against the floor makes me stop cold. I dread having to turn around and look at her. I can already hear my heart thumping wildly and my palms sweating. The sound of her comes closer and I know that she will speak soon.

'Benjamin!' she snaps, 'get up from there at once. What on earth are you doing, rolling around like an animal?'

'It's fun mama!' Benjie beams back at her.

'Get up this instant,' she says in a demure and dry tone.

'Ow!' I hear Benjie wince, and I know that she is pulling him up by his arm. She never knows how to handle him well.

I know that I cannot have my back turned to her forever, so I spin around slowly to face her, looking down as I do. I don't want to look her in the eye. And I don't want to see the expression on her face when she looks at mine.

'Oh for god's sake,' she mutters, looking at the discarded chess pieces on the floor, 'what were the two of you doing?' My arms tense as I hear the disgust in her voice, that is always there with everything she says. She could make anything sound nefarious, and it did its job in making you feel like a criminal or a beast.

Benjie grins at her, 'Seb was playing chess with me!'

'His name is not Seb,' she corrects him. She says my name in unnecessary emphasis, and her nose wrinkles as if it smells of something rotten, 'it is Sebastian. And he is too old to be playing games with children.'

'Chess is not a children's game,' I say.

She glares at me. I know she is glaring me and I don't even have to look up from the ground.

'Sebastian, do not look at the ground when you speak with me,' she demands.

I inhale and exhale sharply before looking up at her. There is a flicker of revulsion in her eyes and I feel like crawling into a hole.

'Good,' she says, smiling almost cruelly. I am squirming and nothing I can do will hide it. She seems to be enjoying this as her smile tightens. 'And do not argue with me,' she says, as she ruffles Benjie's hair. He touches her hand and puts it to his face, like he's relieved to have contact with her.

I keep my eyes on her, even though I want nothing more than to look away and perhaps jump out of the window. 'Forgive me, mother,' I say, 'It will not happen again.'

When I say, 'mother,' her hand flexes.

'I should hope so,' she says, looking at me up and down. She keeps inspecting me, and her disapproving look turns to disappointment.

I bite my lip and my heart thumps harder, and as she opens her mouth, worry tremors through me.

'I will ask Miere to find something suitable for the dinner tonight,' she says, 'we want you to look your best. After all, how many girls from noble families are exactly lining up at the door for you?' Her smile is kind as she says this and my chest twists.

She pats Benjie's head, 'come one now, my dear,' she says to him as she takes his hand in hers, 'let us go and see your papa.'

Benjie follows her eagerly and he tilts up his head to speak to her, 'is Seb-Sebastian, coming with us?'

She makes a sad noise and and strokes his face, 'oh no, my dear,' she said, 'he will not be seeing your papa today.' She flashes me a look that I cannot quite discern, but it does nothing to help my perturbation. Within moments, the both of them are gone and the door shuts loudly behind them, sending a shudder through me.

I exhale heavily and my body loosens. I shut my eyes tightly and open them again before rubbing my face. I can feel the bumpy, dry skin and remove my hand. As I walk over to my desk, I accidentally step on a chess piece. I bend over to pick up the crystal pawn and hold it between my thumb and forefinger. I look ahead and I see my reflection in the mirror.

Before I know what I have done, the crystal chess piece shoots through the air and hits the mirror sharply, making it crack. I don't move, but I keep looking at my reflection and my jaw tightens. But I cannot waste time. I have to clean up the icy shards that have speckled the floor before anybody notices what I have done.


	3. Chapter 3 - Bel's POV

Melia is beside me as we walk down the marble staircase of the castle. Down below, papa is waiting for us, smiling as we approach him. He is wearing navy blue dress robes, detailed with silver flowers. As Melia steps down, he hold out his hand winks at her, doing the same with me as I step off the last stair.

'Oh my girls,' he says. His full cheeks rise into two balls as he smiles, and his bristly beard makes him look far older than he actually is. 'If your mother could only see you,' he says with a hint of sadness. But his smile takes precedence and he squeezes both our hands. 'You will be careful won't you?'

Melia makes a scoffing noise, but papa knows not to take this as rudeness. 'We've been trained since we could walk, papa,' she says, elbowing me slightly, 'we can handle this...Duke.'

Papa makes an uncomfortable noise. He has never been particularly pleased with what we do, but it has always been a tradition of sorts, passed down from generation to generation. Lady Elana, our grandmother, was an Iron Daughter before us, with her cousins, who are now all deceased. So was Lady Elana's mama. But our own mother was not a part of it. She was the Queen and papa wanted her to be safe.

Back then, they were the ones who protected their kingdom from traitors and enemies, by removing them in the dead of the night. Now the Iron Daughters were us, along with our cousins Isis and Timera.

Every day, we follow a strict schedule of training, and if we miss it by seconds, then Lady Elana would come down hard on us. Once, she made Melia and I run around the castle five times. By the end of it, we were sure that we died and saw heaven. Melia said that she was sure we were going straight to hell but I laughed it off. But then she told me that murderers go to hell, and I couldn't stop thinking about it for days.

Melia takes my hand and we walk out of the large castle doors with papa. I look up at the sky and the speckles of stars that mark it. For a moment I wonder what it is like to look down from up there, but I lose myself in my thoughts so quickly that I don't even notice that Melia is prodding my arm with her finger.

'Bel, would you wake up?' she says, rolling her eyes at me, 'Lady Elana is waiting for us in the carriage. Papa has already climbed into his.'

Quickly, I refocus and pace towards the carriage with Melia. She runs towards our cousins, who are poking their heads out of the doors and waving at us.

I grin at them and wave back. It is not only because I am pleased to see them, but because if anybody else saw us, assassins would never be the first thing that would come to their mind.

Melia and I clamber into the carriage, and already, Lady Elana is shaking her head at us in disdain. The feather on her hat flutters around as her head moves from side to side. 'Composure, girls,' she says, 'composure!'

As she says this, Isis and Timera mouth, 'composure,' in perfect unison to Lady Elana, making us stifle our laughs. Sometimes it seems as if this was the only word that Lady Elana knew. Composure-which was sometimes difficult to keep when the four of us were together.

'Oh that's a lovely dress,' Isis says to me, touching the gold lace.

I thank her and compliment her on her shoes, which are a rich red with small glass heels. With my thumb, I point to Melia, 'she almost died in her corset today.'

Isis laughs through her nose, 'isn't it funny that it is always clothes that seem to threaten your life, Melia,' Isis says, 'they're the better the assassin in this case.'

Melia scowls and almost erupts into an argument when Lady Elana promptly puts out a hand and stops her. 'Compose yourself at once, Melia,' she says. But Melia's face is already twisting into irritation. She could never keep her cool-it has always been a fatal flaw of hers. I still have a scar on my leg from when she lost her temper at me for stuffing rocks into her pillow.

'Get your arm away from me at once!' Melia demands

Our eyes widen and our mouths almost drop open at Melia's brashness. I hiss at her to calm down, but she ignores me and calls me a goat. I almost want to laugh.

Lady Elana sighs irritably, 'lashing out will only cause unwanted tension, Melia,' she says.

There is a look of incredulity on Melia's face, 'but if I don't do anything then-

'A woman need not be fiery and hot tempered to be respected,' Lady Elana says, 'she simply needs to know exactly who she is, and exactly what she stands for. But at this particular moment, Melia, I am not entirely sure that you are aware of what you or any of us stand for. Compose yourself or you will be staying in the carriage.'

I open my mouth to protest, but Lady Elana's cold glare makes me clamp it shut. I can tell that Melia wants to say something by the expression on her face, so I place my hand on hers. Soon, she begins to cool down, even though my mention of her corset is what sparked this all in the first place.

For the rest of the journey, Timera and Isis whisper in hushed tones and Lady Elana keeps quietly to herself. Beside me, Melia has stiffened and grown cold. I know at once that this night may not go very well, but I look out of the carriage window as we rattle down the cobblestoned streets of our gas lamped city. We turn onto a street which leads to a long road that has a field on either side. It looks quiet and free and unchained by responsibility and I cannot help but want to run out of the carriage and lie in the overgrown grass and look up at the inky sky and let the breeze kiss my face. I often do it in our castle garden when Lila is not always watching, but somehow, outside of the walls, it sounds more exciting.

Soon, we begin to slow down and I hear chatter and the hushed rattling of other carriages. We are lead onto a narrow bricked road lined with trees on either side. Between each tree there is a gas lamp, lighting our way. In front of us, there are many other carriages, going through the big iron gates of Duke Movilio's mansion. I begin to grow excited, yet anxious, but the jittery feeling is viral. Isis and Timera are roused with the expectation of a grand ball, and soon, Melia has stopped being grumpy and a wrought smile makes its way to her face.

She clamps a hand around mine, and from her expression, I can tell she is sorry about calling me a goat.

Momentarily, I touch my the fabric above my leg, feeling for where the revolver has been placed. Beside it, I can feel the hilt of a blade. As we pull up, Lady Elana gives us all our fans. In preparation, she asked us the colours we would wear, and made sure that our fans matched our dresses. She hands me an ivory coloured fan with elaborate golden designs. I trace a finger over it, and feel the texture of the glitter. There is a small button on the side of the fan, and as soon as I press it, a small blade shoots out from the bottom. I grin and press the button again to make the blade return inside.

A valet opens our door and I am the first one to step out. The spring breeze makes me shiver, but in a good way, and my eyes scan the faces in the courtyard. Around us, there is a buzz of excitement and the enclosed area is lit up with lanterns and lamps and silk and lace dresses and silvery shoes. As soon as our carriage is jostled away, all eyes are on us. To them, we are royalty, but to each other, we are the Iron Daughters.

Our laughter and vibrating excitement subsides and is left in the carriage. We wear demure smiles and pace gracefully towards the open teak doors of the mansion. In front of us, papa and Lady Elana walk side by side. Behind her, Melia and I walk arm in arm, and the same goes with Timera and Isis, who wear expression that suggest they know a secret about every single person surrounding them. In truth, they probably do.

As we walk, we open our fans and cover half our faces. The rest of the women do so as well, fluttering their lashes and lowering their eyes with a smile when they meet the gaze of another. This was sometimes the best part of balls. The secret glances and the unsaid conversations that two people carried out with only the movements of their eyes and the expanding of their irises. It left one with a flutter in their stomach and a strange lightness and heaviness in their chests. I loved it-but I loved the music more.

With one hand, I cover half my face with my fan while my other arm is locked with Melia's, whose eyes flit around cautiously and suspiciously without letting anybody know that she is in fact, suspicious. Instead, she has a dark and mysterious look about her, and when the corners of her eyes wrinkle, I know that she is smiling half in excitement and half in amusement. When we step into the mansion, I can already hear music-a twelve piece orchestra, if I'm correct. They are playing one of my favourite pieces-Rarefeito's Sinfonietta. It always strikes a chord with me because mama and I used to played it together. Me on the violin and her on the cello. When she was killed, I begged for them to play it at her funeral, and finally, they did.

Inside, Duke Movilio's mansion is dazzling and kaleidoscopic. For a moment, I sigh because I know that tonight, he will take his final breaths. But for a traitor, the man throws a hell of a ball. Groups of noblemen and women chatter in clusters around the front area of the mansion. Above, a chandelier tinkers and glitters; but it is nothing compared to the swirls of ruby, navy, gold, and emerald that speckle the inside of the ballroom. Before we go inside though, papa is escorted by his personal valet, Isaiah. We follow behind, looking only forward, even though we are highly aware of all the eyes that are on us. At the heavy white doors of the ballroom, there is a crier.

Isaiah whispers to him and takes a step behind papa, who gives him a wink. I see the tip of Isaiah's mouth quirk into the faintest of smiles, and in less than a second, it is gone and he wears his usual stoic expression. I cast a sidelong glance at Melia, and I see her eyes burning holes in him. I wrinkle my brow, wondering why, but there is no time to ask. The announcement of our arrival is the only thing I can hear over the chatter and the music.

'King Josef Graystar, of Abel!' says the cier. My father steps into the ball with Isaiah behind him. At the sight of papa, cheers erupt in the ballroom.

Melia and I stand by the door. The crier takes a quick glance at us and proceeds to say, 'Princess Melia and Bel of Abel!' As we enter, cheers erupt again, and I can see dazzling smiles and eyes all on us. We smile back, and my eyes circle the room. I squeezes Melia's arm lightly, noticing that she has grown slightly tense. We lock eyes for a few short seconds, and without speaking, she can tell that I know what she is thinking. I just want to get this over and done with. I share the exact same thought. But first, we may as well enjoy the ball.

Isis and Timera are introduced shortly after, and the four of us stand opposite each other casually. We smile and nod to those who greet us, and soon, we are left alone when a new song begins.

'So,' I say, smiling at my three Iron Daughters, 'places?'

Timera grins. She is wearing a necklace and simply tugs at the chain to signal that she knows exactly what to do. We all know that dangling at the end of that chain, there is a vial of black smoke. Lady Elana provides us with our tools, and though we have tried asking, she brushes off our curiosities, telling us we have duties to fulfill.

We have since let the topic lie.

'Oh but can't we dance first?' Isis says giddily. Her fan is is covering her mouth and her eyes are not on me, but are gazing at something-or somebody-behind me. With my own fan covering the bottom half of my face, I turn around and see a boy standing by himself. He is staring at me now and his mouth quirks into a smile. He has eyes are like ice, and his navy blue dress robes accentuate his fine features. I blink and turn around and I feel something inside of me, flutter.

'Oh good god, he's coming towards us,' Melia says. She is standing in front of me, next to Isis, and raises her eyebrows up and down at me, trying to make me laugh. It works and I choke on my own laughter. But then I see a figure appearing beside me and my laughing stops. I know it is him and I look away, pretending to have not seen him.

'Good evening, my ladies,' he says, bowing. His voice is squeaky.

I can already see a disapproving expression forming on Melia's face, and I give her a look, letting her know that I wholly agree. The four of us turn to him and curtsey.

'Good evening,' Isis says, with a hand on her emerald dress, softly smoothing out the creases.

He chuckles and nods. 'Are you enjoying your evening?' he asks, 'my father certainly knows how to throw a ball, does he not?'

I lower my fan and meet his gaze steadily. I did not realise he had a son. But it makes no difference. 'Oh, he most certainly does,' I grin, 'in fact, I heard that this one was going to be the most spectacular ball he has ever thrown.'

'Does it meet your expectations?'

I let out a small laugh and my left shoulder moves forward slightly as I cock my head, 'oh, I am sure it will. After all, the night has just begun, hasn't it?'

Isis makes a sudden noise as if she has been startled. The boy's eyes widen in concern, 'is everything alright?' he asks her.

Melia, Timera and I share quizzical looks before our eyes settle on Isis again.

'What is the matter?' Timera says, touching her sister's arm.

Isis blinks and flashes a smile, 'oh never mind,' she quickly says, 'I thought I saw a loose thread on my dress!'

'Ah...well as long as there isn't,' he squeaks.

I want to laugh.

'And besides, you have not told us your name. Your father has been keeping you a secret, hasn't he?'

He reaches out his hand and takes hers, lifting it to kiss the back of it. 'Nesto,' he says. When he smiles, his eyes light up, and the light oak-y colour of his skin make them bluer.

Isis looks like she is swooning, but I know better. It is an act, and she pulls it off perfectly. Right on cue, he asks her to join him in the next dance. She agrees and they walk off together, hand on arm.

I stifle a laugh as I watch them go. Timera shakes her head at me, but Melia is the only one who is thoroughly entertained.

'That was mean, wasn't it?' Timera says to me with a reproachful look.

I shrug, 'it is hardly as if he knew what I was talking about, was it?' I say, casting a quick glance at Isis and Nesto as they dance, 'besides, it is Isis you want to be talking to. She almost lost her cool. If Nesto sees us behaving strangely and then finds his father-

'Don't say the word,' Timera cautions me.

I wave a hand dismissively in the air, 'oh, you know what I mean.'

Melia cuts in, 'for the moment, let's just enjoy ourselves until Isis gives us the signal. The bloody Duke is not even in the hall yet, so-

'The Duke of Vaile!' shouts the crier.

I freeze.

The Duke enters the ballroom, waving, and along with everybody else, we cheer. The Duke promptly approaches papa, and as he does, I see papa casting a quick glance my way. There is a touch of seriousness in his face, and I can tell that it is almost time.

For a while, the Duke and papa talk, whilst Melia, Timera and I watch swap pleasantries with others.

Isis is still dancing with Nesto, and by the grin on her face, it is evident that she is enjoying herself. Nesto's face is alight, and he looks at her in complete wonder. For a moment, I just stare at them, and the music and voices seem to fade into the background. I'm sure that for them two, the music and voices faded quite a while ago.

Lady Elana has disappeared-she is most likely waiting for us in the carriage, making sure it is on standby.

Melia and I are half facing each other with our fans in hand as we wait eagerly for Isis's signal.

The music stops, and partners curtsy and bow to each other, as they wait for another song to begin. Isis says goodbye to Nesto, and as she approaches us, there is a glint in her eye that he clearly put there. It is easy for her to take out her chain without being seen because there are so many people in the ballroom-but for extra measure, she lifts up her fan as she takes it out. She glances me a look, telling me that she is ready.

I turn around and my eyes scan the room for Duke Movilio. He is speaking with a thick necked, mustachioed man who keeps guffawing at everything the Duke says. In my head, I calculate how many steps it will take for me to get to him when it is time. I deduce that it will take me all of forty seconds to pass by the throngs of people, kill him, and get back to Melia and Timera, who have been ordered by Lady Timera to also kill the Duke's two right hand men. They are on the other side of the hall, speaking in hushed tones with each other, and everything about their body language makes them look suspicious.

The four of us ball our hands into loose fists. This is our signal.

Isis quickly walks past a big group of people, and as she does, she drops the vial to the floor. Nobody can hear it over the resumed music. They are now playing Rarefeito's 4th Symphony. My mouth quirks into a small smile as memory flashes of mother and I playing it out in the castle garden beneath the gazebo.

When Isis is by us, a thick cloud of black smoke rises up into the air, and in no less than four seconds, we are all encased in darkness. Screams ensue. But we do not flinch. I quickly pace towards Duke Movilio, closing the fan in my hand as I do so. I am behind him, and though I can see next to nothing, I feel for the mole on the nape of his neck, and this is how I know it is him. I press the button on my fan and the blade pops out. He is beginning to fumble and wants to run, but I disable his leg by stabbing him in the thigh. He screams, but it useless over the screams of the other hundreds, who are jostling into one another and making a getaway.

Somebody barges into me and I almost fall. Quickly, I regain my balance and take my blade out of the sheath strapped to my inner leg. The steel of the blade kisses his throat, but I must waste no more time. One quick swipe, and he is bleeding out. Three more seconds, and he is dead. His body is heavy and push it away from me. It lands on the polished wood floor with a thud. My fan's blade is still in his leg, and I try to take it out but it seems stuck, so I hold down his leg with one hand and pull it out with the other. Blood squirt out and lands on the back of my hand, and though I try to wipe it away on his clothes, there is still some left.

I wipe both blade with his clothes. I put one back in my sheath and press the button on the fan before running towards the door. Isis, Timera and Melia are there, holding hands so they do not lose each other. I hear them calling my name and I grab Melia's hand. We have go to.

There is a back entrance towards the parking space for carriages. We are not encased in darkness anymore, and we push through the storms of people that are trying to run out of the mansion's entrance. Towards the back, there is not a single person there, so we pause.

'Did you get it done?' I ask Melia and Timera

'He kept fighting it, but it got him in the end,' Timera says.

Melia laughs, 'they always fight it, the poor goats.'

I manage a smile, though I'm panting. Melia's eyes drop down to my dress.

I also look down and see that the gold is stained with blood.

'Oh god, my dress!' I say

'You'll get another,' Isis offers.

'But I liked this one,' I mumble. I let the fabric fall from my hand and turn around to leave through the exit. But somebody is standing there. Nesto.

I stop cold.

There is unparalleled confusion etched in his features. His mouth is parted, and for a long second, he seems lost for words. 'Wha-?'

'Oh god,' Melia says

Nesto's gaze lower and his eyes are fixed on the blood on my dress and the blood on my fan.

'My lady, whose blood is that?' he asks. His voice is quavering. 'I was outside and heard screaming.'

'It's her blood!' Isis quickly says, stepping forward. Nesto seems pleased to see her. 'She fell and cut her hand. Something happened in the ballroom and it went pitch black and people started screaming and running. Luckily, we managed to get away and we hope to meet papa at our carriages.' Isis laughs nervously.

He frowns and I can tell that he may not be convinced. My head turns to look at where his eyes have frozen. He is looking at Timera's hand. She is still holding a blade.

I exhale heavily, knowing what I have to do. I lift my dress, exposing my leg. Nesto's eyes widen in confusion, but he still stares. I take out my revolver and point it at him.

'Bel, no!' Isis shouts

The dull roar of screams still plague the ballroom, like background music.

Nesto takes a step back and the frown on his face deepens into terror. 'What are you doing?' he says frantically, 'Bel, wh-what are you doing?'

I drop my eyes to his waistcoat and then look back up at him, 'if only you didn't see, Nesto,' I say, 'then it wouldn't have had to end this way for you. I'm sorry.'

Something clicks in him and he realises what I mean. 'Don't,' he says, 'please, please don't.'

'It is best to know, before you die,' I begin, 'that you father is no longer with us. He was cavorting with our enemy kingdom, Lores. He was moving sides, and we could not have that.'

When I see the expression on Nesto's face, I feel a pang of pity for him.

'Y-you murdered him?' he almost chokes on the word murder.

Without answering him, he already knows the truth.

His eyes fall on Isis, and his face twists into repulsion. Isis looks dejected and lowers her eyes. I know she feels shame. But we must do what has to be done.

My revolver is still pointing at him and his chest rises and falls heavily. With his hand, he unlatches the door and runs out. It is sad knowing that he thinks he can run away. I chase after him and he is not far away from me. Once I lock my aim, I pull the trigger and he drops to his knees, falling to the ground. His body is surrounded in an expanding pool of blood.

The heels of my shoes clack against the floor as I walk towards his limp body. I crouch on the ground beside him and smooth his eyes out of his hair. He blinks, but his breathing is shallow.

He opens his mouth but all that comes out is a heavy, pained breath. But then finally, he manages to whisper in a laboured voice, 'you might be beautiful, Bel...' as he pauses, there is a bitter smile on his face, and he clenches his jaw. 'But...you're also...a monster.'

The words strike me sharply, and I grit my teeth. I hear the other three closing in behind me. Isis comes around while the others stay back, and her eyes are filled with tears. She puts a hand on his upper chest, feeling the life in him and his beating heart.

But soon enough, the beating stops.


	4. Chapter 4 - Sebastian's POV

Miere brushes down my dress robes and fusses over me, but he is not yet done complaining.

'This is the 58th mirror this year,' he mutters, 'the 58th.' He picks fluff of off my back and makes me hold my arms out beside me like he wants to search me. His head ducks beneath my arm and he checks for more fluff on each side before making me lower them.

We are standing in front of my new mirror, but I don't look at it.

'Look at the mirror.' he says to me.

But I don't.

'Look,' repeats.

I spin around to face him and say, 'no,' in the harshest voice I have.

Miere scratches his beard and shrugs, 'well, I tried,' he says, 'but do me a favour won't you? Stop breaking the mirrors. I am having a hard time explaining to the Queen why I keep having to order new ones. She is not pleased by it.'

I don't focus on what he is saying about the mirror; only the fact that he referred to her as the Queen instead of your mother. I don't blame him, because he already knows about the tension between us and why it is there.

'I don't think she even notices,' I say, 'what with all the strings of men entering and leaving her bedroom.'

Miere looks aghast and I smirk. His nostrils flare, and he proceeds to wag his finger at me, telling me not to talk so cruelly of the Queen; but I shrug it off and tell him that I am only speaking the truth. And I am.

Because my father is ill, my mother sleeps on the east wing of the castle, close by to me, Benjie and Sophia-but even though she tries to be discreet, I always see strange men making their way to her room, slinking in the shadows whilst I go to my library.

At first, I thought they were simply sending messages, but then I heard noises and I knew it couldn't just be messages. I felt sorry for my father, and even guiltier than I felt before. Later on, I told Sophia, who is my younger sister, and she was so eager to see it that she bribed her handmaiden to let her out with me.

Sophia wrinkled her nose, 'how charming,' she said, when she saw a blond haired man enter mother's room.

We hid behind the banisters of the infinitely winding staircases of the castle, and waited for the man leave her room. Her bedroom door opened, and mother was standing in her sleeping robes. She ran a hand through the man's blonde hair and kissed him. When she did, Sophia tried to muffle her laughter, but failed.

'Who's there?!' mother's voice screeches.

The two of us fled away down the corridor and into our own room, closing our doors softly behind us. The following day at breakfast, mother asked us if we were walking around last night, but we swore to her that we were asleep. She believed Sophia, but she glared at me suspiciously. She never believed a word I said, so I didn't expect her to start at that moment.

But she knew that I knew. And this scared her.

After that, I was able to get my own way. I could see Benjie and Sophia more, I could go where I liked in the castle, and I could stay in my library all day if I wanted to.

But the one thing she would never let me do, was visit my father-and I would have given all of those things up just to see him.

What's worse is that she knows that, and she enjoys knowing it.

'There we go,' Miere says, brushing my shoulders. There is a wide grin on his face as he looks at me, and I give him a strange stare.

'Why are you looking at me like that?' I asked him

His expression slowly changes.

'God, Miere, are you going start crying?'

Miere turns his back to me and frantically waves a hand in the air, 'don't be silly now,' he says.

But I can hear him sniffing.

'Miere?' I approach him and put a hand on his back, 'you really need to relax. I think you might be too stressed.'

He makes a loud dramatic noise and turns to face me, 'well I wouldn't be if you stopped breaking all of those mirrors!'

I chuckle and shake my head at him. 'Well god, Miere, there's no need to cry about that.'

'I was not crying,' Miere snaps at me, 'now hurry,' he slaps his palm twice quickly and begins to beckon me out of the door. He opens the door and bows theatrically as I walk through it.

'You really need to tone it down a little,' I say, arching my eyebrow at him.

He blows harshly through his nose as if he's insulted, 'this is the treatment I get for being a good valet?'

'I-

'I see,' he interrupts, 'well then, I shall do nothing from now on and see you how manage.'

I frown at him and fold my arms.

His mouth slowly forms an O. '...or...I could just do my job?'

'Good save,' I comment.

He chuckles nervously and escorts me down winding staircase. We walk through the wide hallway towards the dining room.

'You know, I have a feeling that the Queen is going to fire me one of these fine days,' Miere says glumly.

'That's because you can't hold your tongue, Miere,' I say, 'and she won't. Not if I have anything to do about it. I can't do-well-anything-but I'll not lose you as my valet.'

Mother despises Miere. The only reason we hired him was because I hated the others. I did not want to constantly be around a valet who looked at me like I'd just crawled out from under a rock. Miere came from a small village and had a humble upbringing. He wasn't used to the life of noblemen and royalty. But not only that-he barely flinched when he saw me. In my books, this was a good sign, so we hired him. At the beginning, though, Miere got everything wrong. But he soon grew accustomed to my life; and though he did things his in his own way, he'd become a good valet (who could not for the life of him, hold his tongue).

'Are you nervous?' He asks me as we near the dining room.

I shrug nonchalantly, even though my heart his hammering in my chest, 'what do I have to be nervous about?' I say with wavering confidence.

'Her reaction when she sees you, of course.'

My mouth parts to snap at him, but I close it again. He's right. I'm scared to death about what she will think. Will she vomit? Scream? Look at me in revulsion? Throw things and yell at me? I have no idea which of these things she will do. But I don't expect anything less than any of them.

We pause at the open doors. Miere gives me a reassuring look and I try to calm myself down. It doesn't work, but they are waiting for me so I have to stop wasting time. I begin to wonder what she looks like and imagine that she would be quite beautiful. And I am not wrong.

On the right side of the long mahogany table, there is a strawberry blonde girl with with apple cheeks and small hazel eyes. I notice them as soon as she looks at me. But then her eyes widen and it is hard not to ignore her reaction.

My mother stands up, and when she does, everybody else stands up. Benjie and Sophia smile at me gleefully and I return it with a small wave. My mother shoots them a look, and they stop smiling.

'Duke Bolyn,' she smiles demurely, 'this is my son, Sebastian.' She gestures toward me with her arm, and ushers me forward to shake the Duke's hand. He is in a state of shock. I hold out my hand to shake his, and he is still staring at me dumbfounded. Seconds pass, and suddenly he blinks and makes a noise as if he's just been pinched.

'N-nice to meet you,' he says, shaking my hand loosely. He doesn't even veil is horror, and I'm sure that he's going to fall over something when he walks back to his chair.

Before I sit down, I glance at Miere, who gives me a big nod. The girl is sitting opposite me, and my mother introduces her to me as Isla.

'It is nice to meet you, Isla,' I say in a croaky voice. I clear my throat and look down at my soup.

'It is nice to m-meet you too,' she says quietly.

I look up and meet her gaze, and she has stiffened so much that she could pass for a statue. I scoff a laugh beneath my breath. I cannot bear being here a moment longer, just to be rejected.

'Sebby, what's the matter?' Benjie says to me. The expression on his face makes my hard exterior melt. Sophia is looking at me in the same way, with concerned eyes-almost angry. Unlike Benjie, she knows exactly what is going on. She has always understood.

'Nothing of-course!' my mother beams with a false brimming smile. She nods at me, still smiling, but I can see the scorn behind it.

'E-excuse me,' I say quietly. I'm so nervous I can barely get my words out. 'I-I am afraid I have forgotten about a-a prior engagement. It-it was nice to meet you both.' I bow and leave the room, feeling their eyes burning into me.

From behind, I can hear Benjie say, 'where is Seb going? I want him back here, why is he leaving mama?'

Once I am outside of the dining room, I lean up against the wall and my breaths are heavy and short. My nose is pinching and my eyes hurt, but I push it all down.

Miere is standing beside me. 'I'm sorry,' he says.

Instead of looking at him, I just look ahead, towards the end of the long hallway. I smile grimly, 'so am I,' I say, before walking to away to my library.

My library is the only place I can be alone unless I permit somebody to come in-apart from Miere. It is furnished with small teak tables and reading chairs and walls are made of shelves, stuffed to the brim with books. On either side of the round room, there are two floor to ceiling length ladders which lead to the balcony which circles around the library. There are many lanterns on almost every surface which is not occupied with books-and it lights the library up well in the night. In the day, though, I prefer to have the curtains drawn.

It took awhile to build the whole thing, but since I would not stop talking about it, my father gave in. This was before he became so ill.

I sit on one of the soft chairs in the middle of the room, and pick up the latest book I have been reading. I stay like that for a long time, lost in the words, barely even realise that I have almost finished, when there is a knock at the door. I fold the edge of the page and close the book.

'Come in,' I say

The heavy door creaks open and I see Sophia's bright face, smiling at me. 'Seb?'

I put the book on a small round table and beckon her to come in with my hand, more than relieved to see her. She runs in and bounces onto a chair beside me. She has an elongated face and long eyelashes. Her eyes are bright and green, just like mine and Benjie's-and her dark hair spills around her shoulders. Though she's in a dress, she sits cross legged in the chair and gives me a quizzical look.

'You read too much, you know,' she says

I laugh, 'that's not possible.'

'Yes it is-it's completely and utterly possible.'

I slit my eyes at her and cock my head, 'how?'

She rests her head against the back of the chair and smiles, 'If you spend all your time reading, you'll never do anything. You won't live!'

I sigh and frown at her. The side of my mouth tilts into a smile because she is right. But she also wrong. 'Not in my case,' I say, 'you know that, Sophia.' My voice sounds harsh, but she just blinks at me. 'Besides, living through stories is exciting. You should try it.'

'Oh, I don't care very much for reading,' she said with a loud exhale. She fidgets around, tapping the chair and opening and closing books, and moving around. She can never stay still, and her mind is quite like that. She rushes from one thing to another-back and forth-but it is part of her charm, apart from when you want her to pay attention to something.

Miere comes into the library and smiles at us. I don't even find the strength to the smile back at him. Instead, my eyebrows just jolt up, acknowledging him.

'He's brooding again,' Sophia says to Miere, 'snap him out of it will you? Get him out of this room.'

Miere laughed, 'the day that will happen, I'll have cows running out of my backside.'

Sophia gasps and burst into laughter.

I shoot Miere a disdainful look, but he simply shrugs.

When she sees my face, Sophia stops laughing and her merriment is swapped with concern. She lowers her eyes and her eyelashes flutter before she looks up at me again. 'I'm sorry about what happened back there.'

'Don't apologise to me,' I said, 'it wasn't your fault.'

'But I-

'I said don't apologise. I don't want to hear it.'

She looks at me like I've hit her.

'Sophia, I-I didn't meant to-I mean, I just-

'It doesn't matter,' she says. But I can see that it does. She doesn't hide it well, though she tries.

Miere is now the one giving me a disapproving look, but I ignore him. I feel like my chest is growing hotter and that everything is closing in on me.

'Will you just leave?' I spit at her. It comes out as unkind, even though I did not mean for it to. But I can't even take it back, because as soon as I open my mouth again, she has followed my order and has left.

When the door slams shut, my head falls against the back of my chair and I let out a frustrated growl.

'You know,' Miere begins, perching himself on one of the tables, 'this might be news to you, but you have something of a temper problem-did you know?'

I glare at him venomously.

'That wasn't nice,' he says.

'Really? Forgive me, that was not at all my intention.'

He sighs and locks his eyes with mine. It is the first time in a long time that I have seen him look at me so seriously. 'You are not the only person in the world who has been dealt an unfortunate hand, Prince Sebastian. And you are certainly not the only person with feelings.'

I want to say something, but I don't know what. In guilt and cold anger, I pick up my book and read on from where I've left off, while his words still ring in my ear.


	5. Chapter 5 - Bel's POV

You might be beautiful, Bel, but you're also a monster.

I can't forget those words no matter how hard I try.

The image of the way he looked at me flashes in my mind almost every time I close my eyes.

I have been in the castle garden, in the morning light, playing my violin for only god knows how long. The strings make a long sad noise with every stroke I make, and my upper body sways softly in rhythm to it. My eyes are closed, but I can feel the sun on my face, making me see a fiery red colour through my eyelids.

But then everything goes black, and I stop playing because there is a person standing over me. I open my eyes, but I cannot see the details of their face. But it is a big person, and only when I have adjusted my vision, do I see that it is papa.

He smiles at me, with his cheeks rounding up into balls.

'What's the matter, my Bel?' he says in his velvety baritone voice. He moves out of the sunlight and it hits me again as he sits beside me. The pond is a few metres away from us, and I can smell the coolness of it.

Papa is still looking at me, and I manage to return the smile. 'Nothing, papa,' I say, 'I'm quite alright. My dress is ruined though.'

'With blood?'

I nod.

'Lila will have a difficult time getting that out. Perhaps wear an apron next time?'

He raises both eyebrows at me and I end up laughing.

'You know,' he says as he adjusts himself on the low wall that shelters the flower beds, 'your mother loved to come out here and play. You did it with her, didn't you? Her on the cello and you on the violin. When I first met her, she played for us, and I was caught, just like that,' he smiles and snaps his fingers, 'sooner or later, I fell in love with her.'

As he tells me the story, I smile at him sadly and there is an ache in my chest. I miss her. I miss her every single day. The way she smiles at me and spoke to me and understood the things I said. When she was gone, I didn't leave my room for two months. I couldn't face a world where she did not exist.

'There are days I want to call her name,' he carries on. I feel my eyes stinging with tears and I am afraid I will lose myself and cry.

Papa sighs and places his hand over mine. He see the tears in my eyes and strokes my cheek with his thumb. 'You're beautiful,' he says, 'just like her. Absolutely beautiful, on the inside and on the out.'

I want to argue with him but I push it down.

You're a monster.

This has always been the problem with me. I can never forget things and I always rehash them-and though it hurts, I cannot help but do it. It makes me feel like a masochist.

Papa and I do not speak of what happened last night. It's a rule we have made, not to discuss it. Instead, we pretend it did not happen, even though we spoke of the blood on my dress. But besides that, nothing else pertaining to that night is mentioned. But then for some reason, he now decides to break the rule. He says Nesto's name, and my arms prickle.

'His and his father's funeral will be held tomorrow.'

I nod.

'What happened, Bel?' his whole body turns to face me, but I stay still. I can't find a way to put it into words. And he doesn't need me to tell him what he already knows. I killed Nesto, and that is all there is to it.

'He's gone,' I say with a sharp exhale. Papa frowns at me, but I prop my violin under my chin and I begin to play again, pretending that he is not there. The sad music soothes me and soon I am lost in it again. But vaguely, I hear him sigh deeply and leave.

After lunch, there is a council meeting with papa's most trusted advisors. They are the only ones who know of the Iron Daughters.

'What do you think this is all about?' Melia asks me.

I shrug, 'your deadly corset? Maybe they'll start outlawing it as a danger to citizen well being.'

Melia laughs sarcastically, 'hilarious as always,' she says.

Lady Elana glares at us to stop talking, and we obey. We sit at the round table in the same windowless room that these meetings are always held in. In total, there are seven of us around the table. Lady Elana, me and Melia, papa, and three of his advisors, Jacek, Pael, and Bren. The three of them look so alike that they could pass for triplets. They all have hair the colour of hay, and eyes the colour of a robin's egg. The only thing that distinguishes them are the colours of their clothes and their height.

'We must strike as soon as possible,' Jacek says, scratching his chin, 'time is running out.'

Papa arches an eyebrow and look to Pael and Bren for their advice. They both nod in agreement with Jacek.

'The King of Lores is dying,' Bren says as he swirls his goblet. I hear the wine inside of it sloshing around.

This sparks my interest and I sit up. 'What is he dying from?' I ask, 'and if he is dying, shouldn't we just let that happen? This is a good thing, isn't it?'

Bren smiles at me, 'yes it is, my lady, but he is not our main concern.'

'Who is?'

'His son, Sebastian.'

Melia's nose wrinkles, 'the one with the weird face?'

'Melia,' Papa says.

'What?' she hunches up her shoulders defensively.

He shakes his head at her before returning back to his advisors, 'he needs to be taken care of, doesn't he? When the King dies, it will be him that ascends to the throne. If we can stop that, there will be great unrest in their Kingdom. Once this happens, we will be able to strike.'

'What, what?' Melia's tone changes to incredulity, 'but...isn't he just a boy? He's barely a year older than Bel.'

Something in my chest tightens and I feel a strange, fiery conviction rising up in me, 'we will take care of it,' I say pointedly.

'Bel?' Melia frowns at me

'They killed our mother, Melia,' I say, looking her in the eyes, 'our mother. They took her from us. Now, we will take somebody from them.'

Papa's eyes are on me, and when I look at him, they soften. 'So you will,' he nods.

When we are in the middle of training, Lady Elana takes me to the side. As she does, I hear Timera and Isis whispering to themselves. Isis can barely look at me.

Lady Elana breathes slowly through her nostrils, and she looks at me almost sadly.

'Lady Elena, what's the matter?' I say as I put my blade in my sheathed belt. 'Has something happened? Is it papa?'

She sighs, 'it is you and your papa,' she says, shaking her head and looking at anything but me. 'I told him not to do this. It is reckless and it breaks the-

'Breaks what?'

She ignores my question, 'you have both been driven to this out of revenge. Revenge solves nothing and it will make things worse. Do not do this.'

I feel my colour rise, 'how can you say that?' I say, 'they KILLED my mother. They took her away from me!' My voice quavers as I say this, so I clamp my mouth shut to gain some control over myself. I step forward and my voice is barely a whisper, 'they will not get away with what they have done. I will personally make sure of that.'

She lowers her eyes and I notice the disappointment in her features. 'I did warn you,' she says, 'this is not the purpose of the Iron Daughters. This is not why we were created.'

'As time changes, so do rules.'

A wrinkle appears on her brow, 'revenge makes monsters of people, Bel-I have seen it with my own eyes.'

My expression hardens, 'well I am not a monster.'


	6. Chapter 6 - Sebastian's POV

The gavel bangs against the table and the room goes silent. I sit above everybody, hidden from view, watching it all unfold, and it is not by any form, pretty. I have sat here for over an hour listening to their bickering and want nothing more than to leave for my library. I hardly even see the point of my being there, not when I am not barely allowed to say anything.

'You must pay your debt!' shouts a representative of our neighbouring kingdom, Castor. 'You have borrowed from our King for long enough!'

'Our crops are making progress,' a representative from our side urges, 'your King will get his money in time. There is nothing else we can do.'

Another argument breaks out and the sound of the gavel shatters the noise.

'I want to leave,' I say to Miere, who is enjoying the arguments.

'Wait wait,' he says, 'you never see them so riled up like this, it's wonderful stuff.'

I grumble and recline in my chair, but my eye catches Isla, the same girl from dinner. She is sitting beside her father, and simply looks ahead at the ongoing verbal scuffles. They are supposed to leave later on today, but mother wants me to talk to her before they go. I have no idea how anything I can say will change her mind, so I do not plan on speaking to her at all. It is simply better that she goes.

Finally, it finishes and I am allowed to leave, but my mother catches me before I go. 'We need a union to happen soon,' she says, clasping her hands in front of her.

'I know.'

'Do you?' she says in a dry voice, 'you put no effort into creating one. Isla would have married you had you not so rudely walked out of dinner the way the you did.'

I scoff a laugh, 'god, be honest, mother,' I say, 'do you really think that that girl wanted to marry me?'

She just stares at me.

'I didn't think so.'

'You owe me,' she says, almost desperately, 'you owe us all. And most of all, you owe your father not to send his kingdom into ruin.'

I bite the inside of my lip to control my anger. I sigh. 'I might owe father my life,' I say, 'but I owe you nothing.'


	7. Chapter 7 - Bel's POV

In the early evening, we begin to pack for the journey. I polish my belt and weapons and I pack one set of black clothes. A hooded cloak, a shirt, and trousers. I would usually wear a dress, but I need not to have any loose material on me, because it is a castle we will be breaking into. Melia and I are the only ones to go, with Lady Elana in tow, of course. The less of us there are, the less chance there is of being caught. All Melia has to do is create distractions while I finish off the job.

At the doors of the castle, papa gives us each a hug goodbye, whilst Lady Elana looks onwards at the carriage with discontent.

'Nevermind her,' he says to us, 'your grandmother has always been very er, picky. But be careful, both of you, okay?' He looks at the both of us proudly, 'this is what you have been training for.'

I squeeze papa's hand and smile at him, 'for mama,' I say.

'For Lina' he says.

As the carriage rattles down the long road towards the castle gates, Melia and I turn around to wave at papa, and we feel like children again. When we turn back around, I see Lady Elana looking out of the window. I know she will not speak to me for the rest of this journey, and can only think that she is being unfair. Melia is wearing a peculiar expression as well. I could tell that she did not want to do this, and though I keep reminding her of what they did, she just stays quiet.

The journey takes us a total of two weeks, and we are tired by the end of it. When we approach the walls of the capital of Lores, we are given queer looks. The people of Lores do not look like us. They are rather fair and some are pale. Every single street smells awful; of urine, faeces and rotten fruit and entrails. I can hear shouting and yelling as we pass a market-children laughing and babies crying and people begging. One thing I can derive from this, is that this kingdom is on the verge of ruin.

The carriage lurches to a stop outside of a small house. Nobody knows who we are, and we dress as if we are commoners. Lady Elana tells the carriage driver to go around the back to park. The air reeks ale and something stale.

Melia and I exchange curious looks as Lady Elana raps on the door. A thin white haired woman appears, and breaks into a smile when she sees Lady Elana. We are introduced to the woman, who gasps and beckons us inside. Lady Elana tells us that her name is Toria. Her house is clean-immaculate even. She was expecting us.

'This is a nice place you have,' I say to her.

Toria's face goes red and she giggles, 'oh my lady, thank-you that is most kind.'

I nod at her with a smile before she flees to bring us bread and meat soup. Melia and I eat hungrily whilst Lady Elana and Toria speak to each other as if they are long lost friends.

Once we are finished, Melia and I are given pillows to rest against, and we fall into a short sleep. At nightfall, we are awakened by Lady Elana.

I rub my eyes, still feeling sleepy. But remembering what we came here to do makes the fatigue vanish. Melia and I dress up in our black clothes and we secure our belts.

Before we leave, she glances at me worriedly, 'are you sure you want to do this?'

'It's not about that,' I say, 'we have to do this.'

Folding her arms, she furrows her brow, 'but why?'

'Their kingdom will be weak and father can invade.'

'So we are doing this for war?'

'I-no! Because of mama,' I say, 'think of mama.'

Her eyes half close and she makes a small sound like she is half laughing and half giving up arguing with me.

Our carriage pulls up far away behind the castle. The back is the only way we can get in. There is a spy in the castle who works as a maid, and she has left a secret servants entrance open to us. I jump out of the carriage, and Melia is beside me, keeping a good lookout I scour the surroundings and in the distance, I think I see a guard. But they are on higher ground, so we have to keep low.

'We have to crawl,' I whisper to her.

She crouches low and crawl towards the servants door, where a freckled faced girl with bright red hair is waiting for us.

'Hurry before they see you, get in!'

She locks the door behind us.

'Alright,' she breathes heavily, 'prince's room is on the west wing. Just go through this door and to the top of the stairs. His door is the third on the left.'

'Tha-' before we can even thank her, she has fled.

'Did she looks nervous to you?' I ask Melia

Melia gives me an obviously, sort of stare and tugs my arm to follow her up the stairs. Inside, it is deathly quiet, and the smell is different from our own castle, making it feel more foreign. At the top of the stairs, there is a double door which leads to the hallway. I put a finger to my mouth when I see Melia about to say something, and she gives me a dark glower.

'Shh,' I say as I open one of the doors a little. It is empty. We move.

On the left, I count the doors. We pass one, two, and then three. 'Stay as a lookout,' I whisper to her. She nods and takes out weapons. In one hand, she has a blade, and in the other, a revolver. I grin at her and turn to the prince's door. This might get noisy.

With my hand, I turn the knob of the door and then open it. The room is dim, but there are three lanterns giving light. I step inside and hear a noise of confusion.

'Who is that? Who's there?' I hear a male voice as I shut the door behind me. A figure rises and begins to back against the wall. The light coming from the lantern shines on his face, and I take a step back when I see him. Half of his face is covered in a large bumpy red mark. On the inside, there are black veins, trailing to his neck and probably even lower. It even covers his eyelid.

He's staring at me, terror-struck, and when his eyes fall on my blade, his hands automatically move behind him, like he's holding somebody. A small head appears, looking straight at me.

'Please don't do this,' the prince says, 'we'll give you anything you want but just don't hurt him.'

All I can do is stare. I want to move forward and I want to finish the job, but I'm frozen. I can't bring myself to do it. The next thing I know, a loud scream comes from the little boy behind him. The door opens behind me and Melia looks in. When she sees the prince standing there and the little boy, she swears loudly.

'You haven't done it?!'

'I can't exactly do it in front of a little boy, can I?' I hiss, 'besides, you didn't want to do it in the first place.'

'Yes, but I thought since we're here, you'd follow through!'

'I-I just-

There is a sudden yelling coming from the end of the hallway, It's faint, but it gets louder.

'They'll catch you,' the prince says.

'Shut up,' I snap

Melia grabs my hand, 'we have to go. Now!'

'Seb, I'm scared!' the little boy wails.

I take one last look at the horrified prince before darting out of the room. The guards are running right towards us. We make a beeline towards the double doors and practically jump down the winding stairs instead of running down them. When we get to the entrance, it is still locked.

'Why did she lock it?!' Melia says loudly

'We have to climb over it,' I quickly say, clasping my hands together, 'put your leg in my hands, I'll give you a boost up.'

'But Be-

'Hurry!'

I can hear them approaching, and tell her to get a move on. Melia puts a foot in my palm and I hoist her up. She adjusts herself on the top of the wall and reaches her hand out for mine. 'Grab it and climb!' she yells.

'STOP!' A guard behind me screams.

'Melia, run!' I shout to her, 'run, hurry! And get out of the city!'

I begin stepping backwards, letting her know I am serious. She looks exhaustingly defeated and jumps down on the other side. 'I'll come back for you,' she says, 'I swear I will.'

'Run!'

As her figure disappears into the night, the guards restrain me, punch me in the face, and drag me inside.


	8. Chapter 8 - Sebastian's POV

Miere tells me that the girl's name is Bel, and that she is the daughter of our enemy King. They've locked her in a room and there were guards posted outside the entire night. Benjie was so shaken he couldn't go back to sleep, and when our mother came to take him, she looked at me like I'd been the one who tried to commit murder.

'Why did she try to kill me?' I ask out loud

Miere has his hands on his waist and shrugs, 'question is, why did she stop?'

'Because of Benjie,' I say, 'if he wasn't there, then I'd be a dead man.'

Miere shudders and I just keep seeing flashing memories of what happened. The way she stood there with a cold look in her eye, holding the weapon in her hand. The way she looked at me, with a mixture of shock and confusion. There was very little repulse in her expression, but it was still there.

'But she didn't do it,' I think aloud, with my hand covering my mouth. I look at the floor and then up at Miere, 'she could have.'

'She would have.'

But seeing Benjie stopped her, and I cannot help but wonder whether she is truly cold hearted. Besides, it is not everyday that a murderer shows some humanity.

'She's an assassin,' Miere points out, 'she's done this before.'

'Her sister was with her too,' I say, standing up, 'but she got away.'

'The guards say she gave her a boost up over the wall and told her to run. They are scouring the city for her as we speak. It will not be too difficult to find her.'

I give Miere a steady look as I think of something. He notices and folds his arms to repel it. He knows what I am thinking of doing.

'No,' he says, 'that's stupid. No.'

'You're arguing with me?' I ask, 'really?'

He makes a defeated noise and his arms fall, 'she tried to kill you, Sebastian. Why would you want to see her?'

I shrug, 'to ask her why she did it,' I say, 'and then to ask her why didn't it.'

'You already know why she didn't.'

'I'd like to hear her say it.'

Miere and I stand outside of the doors where she has been locked. It is on the east wing of the castle in a room I have never ventured in. For a moment, I wonder why she wasn't put right at the bottom of the castle. What did she do to deserve being locked up in a nice room? This only fuels my anger.

'Open the doors,' I order the guards. One steps aside, and the other opens the doors for me and Miere.

Sunlight floods the room. It is furnished with gold and cream chairs and a black and gold piano sitting in the corner. When I walk in, the girl glares at me and smiles. If snakes could smile, I am sure it would resemble hers.

'Your Highness,' she says, 'how do you do?'

She's making fun of me.

It takes me all of a second to notice her black eye. I clasp my hands behind my back. Miere is on one side of me, and there is a guard on the other. I turn my head to the guard but I do not look at him, 'you may leave us.'

'But my lor-

'Has she been checked for weapons?'

'Yes, Your Highness.'

'Then she is hardly a threat. You may leave us.'

Miere shifts uncomfortably next to me, 'I don't feel very comfortable being in the same room as an assassin. What if she beats us to death?'

'With what?' I hiss, 'her shoe? Stop whimpering. We'll be fine.'

'Do you want to include me in your conversation or should I just listen in?' the girl says.

I scoff and she frowns sarcastically as if she's insulted and taken aback by the rudeness. 'You have no right to be insulted,' I say to her, 'you tried to kill me. I should be the insulted one.'

'I'm sorry,' she says.

'You're sorry?'

'I'm sorry I failed.'

I take a step towards her, but she doesn't react. Her brown eyes just stare at me like she's challenging me. 'Why did you try to kill me?' I demand.

'Because I have a score to settle.'

My expression melts into slight confusion, 'what have I ever done to you?'

She laughs bitterly, 'it's not what you've done to me. It's what you've all done.'

'What are you talking about?'

'My mother!' Her voice quavers and she looks at me with venom.

'I-I don't know what you're talking about...'

A crease forms on her brow and her eyes linger on my face a few seconds before she looks away.

'You're lying,' she says quietly.

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' I say.

'Why should I?'

'It's your choice,' I say, 'I won't force you to.'

'Will you let me go?'

'No,' I say, stepping back, 'wouldn't want you to try and kill me again, would we?'

'With her shoe,' Miere interrupts.

A grim smile appears on her face. There are bags beneath her eyes. She hasn't slept and god knows how long the journey to get here from her kingdom was.

I turn to leave but I swivel back around to ask her one more question, 'why did you stop? You could have done it. But you stopped.'

Her mouth hardens into a line, but her eyes don't look so flat or clouded anymore. 'The boy,' she answers me.

'My brother.'

'Yes-I wanted to kill you. But I am by no means, a monster.'

'I see.'

Her face suddenly softens. 'How is he?'

'Shaken.'

'If you will, tell him I am sorry.'

Slightly taken back, I blink.

'Tell him yourself. I am by no means, your message boy.'

She lets out a small scoff.

When I am by the door, I wrap my hand around the doorknob and say, without looking at her, 'Sorry for what they did to you.' And before I can see her expression or hear her answer, I leave with Miere behind me.


	9. Chapter 9 - Bel's POV

Sebastian is strange. I'd made up my mind about him from the moment he stepped into the room. But when he apologised to me before leaving, it gave me a different impression altogether. I could not stop staring at his face as he spoke to me. One half of his face looked completely normal, and the other half was...strange and rather unnatural and horrid like he'd been burned. He had glossy black hair which curled at the back of his neck and over his forehead, and his eyes were a fantastic green that I could not see in the dark the night before. But with the sun flooding the room, they took in all of the light.

I also could not believe him when he said he knew nothing about my mother. But his confusion when I said it, tells me a different story. He has been kept out of the loop. It's no wonder why.

My head aches and my back is sore. When I so much as blink, there is a shooting pain. All night, I worried about Melia and whether she got away. They are no doubt tearing the city apart, trying to find her. But I have faith that she has been quick about it. Soon, the message will be delivered to my father, and with any luck, I'll have escaped out of this castle in a few days. They may have hurt me and beat me, but they will not kill me. Killing me would spark a war, and by the looks of it, this kingdom already has enough problems.

I touch my eye and wince. Only god knows when they'll do to me now. I am sat there for another half hour, close to falling asleep in an uncomfortable position, when I am joined by the Queen. She swears a sharp smile and a light pink morning gown. Her hair, unlike her daughter sons' hair, is blonde and fair.

I shift myself and sit up straight. On either side of her, there is a guard. Her eyes scan me and her face softens. 'Oh my dear,' she says, walking towards me. She crouches beside my chair and gently makes moves my head to face hers so she can take a look at my bruise, 'I cannot believe they did this to you. How dreadful. We shall get that seen to straight away.'

Up close, her cheeks are touched with natural colour. She's breathtaking and lovely like a mother would be to her child.

'Why do you looks so surprised?' she says to me, 'surely you didn't think we would treat you as if you were a criminal would you?'

'I-'

'You will join us for breakfast won't you?' she cuts in, 'you will be staying with us for quite awhile, so I have picked out a handmaiden for you. She will be with you and take you to your room. Once you are cleaned up and dressed more appropriately, then you will join us in the breakfast room, hm?'

I cannot believe what I am hearing, but I am not in the position to decline kindness.

'Thank-you your grace,' I say to her, 'this is very kind of you.'

'You're very welcome my dear,' she says, touching my face softly and smiling. I smile back at her. She seems so honest, but I have my reservations. Our kingdoms have hated each other for as long as I can remember. She is certainly up to something, and I will not be fooled by smiles and small acts of kindness.

She seems too happy for somebody whose son was almost assassinated.

When she leaves, a girl appears. She is perhaps my age, and pale but with a striking face. 'My lady,' she curtseys, 'my name is Laila and I will be your handmaiden for the rest of your stay.'

I get up from my chair and wobble for a moment, but she rushes over to me and holds me up so I do not lose my balance. I'm weak. 'Thank-you, Laila,' I smile.

My room is big. There is a large feather bed and big windows with light pouring in. There is a desk, a soft rug, ornate chairs facing each other, and a big fireplace. It reminds me of home, but this only saddens me. Laila helps me wash my face and dabs some ointment to stop the pain. There is a yellow dress laid on the bed, made of a mixture of silk and some other fabric. She helps me into it and brushes my hair for me and pins it up. I ask her to let a few strands fall around my face, and she does.

'How long have you worked here?' I ask her

'Just started a month ago, my lady,' she says, propping in the last pin, 'there we go, my lady, all done.'

I look into the mirror and touch my soft hair, 'it's wonderful, Laila, thank-you,' I say. For a moment, I pause and then ask, 'are they keeping me hostage?'

Laila spins around and hesitates, 'it would seem so, my lady.'

'Why is the queen being so nice to me?'

'That's a mystery to me, my lady,' she answers, 'all I know is that, hostages in this kingdom are not treated with this sort of kindness. Not even hostages that have been kings or queens.'

I purse my lips, 'then Laila, it is a mystery that you and I shall have to solve. That is of course, unless you are spying on me.'

Her eyes dart to the floor and her face flushes pink.

'I thought so,' I say solemnly, 'now why don't you take me down to the breakfast room?'

Laila guides me down the stairs, and she seems nervous. Her hands shake.

'Are you alright?' I ask her

'Yes, my lady,' she says quickly

'Is this because I know that you are spying on me?'

She says nothing

I touch her hand gently, 'well that does not mean we cannot be friends, does it? Surely not.'

Her eyes widen and she seems surprised by this, but relaxes altogether.

In the breakfast room, there is a young girl playing chess with the little boy from last night. The Queen is drinking her tea on the table, and there is an empty place where Sebastian should be. When the little boy sees me, he freezes. The girl cocks her hair and looks at me with great interest.

'You're the girl who almost killed Sebastian?'

'Don't be rude, Sophia,' the Queen says to her. She then smiles at me, 'please, do take a seat.'

Laila beckons me forwards and she goes to stand against the wall. I look at her and frown. Is she to stay there until I finish? We never do this back home. Servants would wait outside.

'Are you, then?' Sophia asks again

I open my mouth to say something-though I don't know what-but the Queen cuts me off and tells Sophia that there was simply a misunderstanding. Sophia recoils but there is still a great hint of curiosity in her features and I know that she will not let it go. For some reason, this makes me like her.

A footman comes forward and pours me tea. There is bread and jam and fresh eggs and...pickles. 'Please, eat as much as you like,' the Queen says, gesturing towards the food.

I hear footsteps getting closer and look towards the door. Sebastian is standing there, wearing royal blue, and there is a book in one hand. I only see the side of his face which has no mark, and I wonder how he would look without the mark. Quite handsome, perhaps.

'Good morning, Sebastian,' his mother smiles at him.

He frowns at her, 'what's all this about?'

'I thought you might like to meet her. This is Bel, of Abel.'

He doesn't look at me and acts extraordinarily rude towards his mother. 'I have already met her,' he says, 'she was very pleasant.'

She remains stoic, 'when?'

'This morning,' he says, 'I saw her in that charming room you kept her in. Though, I had no idea I would be dining with the girl who attempted to-

'She is our guest, and she is sorry for the misunderstanding,' the Queen urges.

He scoffs a laugh and glances at me. We lock eyes for a moment but he looks away again, 'and she told you that, did she?'

'You will join us at least, won't you? Oh Seb, don't make this a drama.'

He laughs, but there is a hostile edge to it. 'Seb?'

I do not make any movements or any facial expressions. They have a peculiar relationship with each other, and there is something about them that I do not know, but want to know. Sebastian seems disgusted by her.

He walks around the table and pulls out a chair right at the end, but his mother stops him.

'Don't be rude Sebastian, sit opposite her!'

He gives her a pleading look but she doesn't seem to have noticed it. 'Go on, sit opposite her.'

He draws in a sharp breath and sits opposite me, looking down the whole time. When he sits down, he pours himself tea, and begins to read his book.

I raise my eyebrows and push my tongue against the inside of my upper lip. I stare at him, and I see his eyes looking away from his book and freezing at an empty spot on the table. Without moving his head, he looks at me.

'For god's sake, what's the matter with you? Why are you staring? Don't they teach you manners in that kingdom of yours?' he says.

'Sebastian,' his mother snaps.

He ignores her and raises an eyebrow at me accusingly.

'Nothing,' I say, 'I am just wondering what you find so engrossing about that book.'

'It is about people,' he says, 'that is all.' And goes back to reading it.

By this point, I have had just about enough. This family just seems dysfunctional. The little boy, Benjie, is still staring at me, and though I smile, this seems to frighten him more. and he begins to cower beneath the table.

Suddenly, somebody walks in through the door and whispers into the queens ear.

'Why have I only found this out now?' I hear her hiss to the man. He makes a shrugging sort of gesture and she promptly gets up from her seat and excuses herself.

When she leaves the room, Sebastian exhales and mutters, 'finally.'

'Why does your mother act like that?' I ask him when she is finally gone.

'Ask god. Maybe he can give you an answer. In fact, ask the the devil. He's probably the one that made her.' he mumbles, still trying to read his book.

Goodness. He must really hate her.

'Fine,' I say, 'maybe you can answer why she's being so nice to me.'

He sighs irritatedly and closes his book and just looks at the table before fixing his gaze with mine. And then he says something that I don't expect.

He says, 'she's being nice to you because you tried to kill me.'


	10. Chapter 10 - Sebastian's POV

'He's dead?' I repeat Miere's words like an echo.

'Yes, he died at a ball he held. Him and his son are both dead. They were your mother's only ties to Abel. She will have to find another one now.'

I laugh humorlessly, 'she will be so lucky.'

'You ought not to be so flippant about this. You're a part of this kingdom too, you know,' he says, kicking a pebble.

We are walking outside in the castle garden. The sun is bright, so many of the ladies of court are taking walks. Occasionally, we cross paths, but I do not look at them. They dare not look at me either. Not unless they want to see their last meals again.

'You also ought to say hello to them, Sebastian,' he inputs, 'how else will you find a wife if you keep ignoring them all?'

'They don't pay attention to me,' I say, 'how can you ignore somebody who pays no attention to you?'

He gasps in mock horror, 'they always pay attention to you. That one over there,' he points across the garden to a girl walking with her handmaiden, 'she couldn't take her eyes off you.'

I look at her and squint, 'you know perfectly well what she was staring at,' I say, 'and let's not talk of that anymore. It's such a glum subject.'

'Oh, then let us talk about Bel, shall we?' he beams

I shield my eyes from the sun and walk towards a tree for shade. Miere hops along beside me, shooting questions at me.

'She has a strange face, doesn't she?'

I frown, 'she has a normal face.'

He grins.

'Shut up.'

'I didn't say anything.'

'Well whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it.'

'Very well,' he says, slumping down onto the grass. He leans himself against the tree and starts pulling grass out from the ground. 'What does your mother plan on doing with her? What do you think?'

'I don't know, and I don't particularly care. She can hang the girl if she likes.'

Miere gasps, 'you horrid boy,' he says in a granny-like voice.

'Don't care.'

'Well you should,' he says in his normal voice. 'A girl with her skills could come in handy.'

'For what? There's nobody I want to kill,' I say. I cock my head and think about it again, 'well-

'Don't,' Miere warns me.

'Fine. But do you think she killed the Duke and his son?'

'Could have,' Miere says, 'I've never heard of a princess being an assassin before, but this is really something.'

I say nothing for a long while and Miere nudges me with his foot, 'why have you suddenly gone so quiet? Do you want to go back to your library? The sun will do you good, you don't get nearly enough of it cooped up in that place.'

'I'm fine. I'm just wondering about father. Have you heard anything yet?'

Miere sighed and carried on pulling the grass out of the ground, 'not yet, Sebastian,' he says, 'try not to worry yourself about him too much or you'll get ill as well.'

I open my mouth to answer him, but across the garden, I see Bel and her handmaiden. Bel's hand is on her handmaidens arm and they are talking quietly to each other. It looks like they have become friends, which is funny since my mother clearly paid that handmaiden to spy on her. I begin to wonder whether she has noticed anything between my mother and I. But for the moment, I do not see why she should be let to walk the castle grounds like some sort of princess, even though she is one.

'Oh let us say hello to them,' Miere smiles, getting up from the floor.

I give him a reproachful look, 'weren't you the one who told me it was stupid to talk to her right after she tried to kill me?'

'Yes, but after meeting her, she seems like a nice girl. Besides, she did apologise for Benjie did she not? Now how many assassins do that?'

'None that I know of.'

'You don't know of any assassins,' he adds.

I exhale sharply, 'shut up, Miere.'

He just grins.

For a while, I read my poetry book. But during small intervals, I look up and watch them walk and talk to each other, and I realise that I am quite curious about her. I know absolutely nothing of her, and although something tells me that I should not attempt to get to know her, it feels as if there is some invisible string, pulling and compelling me to.

And she also asked me about the book I was reading. Nobody-not even Miere-has ever bothered to.

A short interval later, I look up to watch them again, and when I notice that they are heading our way, towards the tree, I almost jump right out of my skin. I push Miere and he lets out a startled yelp.

'What are you doing?' he stares at me. He follows my gaze towards Bel and her handmaiden and then looks back at me and smiles. 'Ohh.'

'Stop that,' I say to him, straightening myself.

He gives me a queer look.

'Stop it Miere, unless you want to be peeling potatoes for a week.'

'You know as well as I do that your threats are empty. You wouldn't survive an hour without me.'

I let out a short laugh, 'I'd wager all my fortune against that.'

'Look like I'll be coming into great wealth then.'

As she approaches, Bel smiles.

She curtseys, along with her handmaiden, 'Your Highness,' they both say.

Miere and I bow. Me to Bel, and him to the both of them.

'A rather nice day for a walk, isn't it?' she says, 'our summers in Abel are quite relentless. I like the breeze here.'

'I'm afraid I cannot compare,' I reply, 'I have never been to Abel before.'

'Oh my, then we must rectify that at once, don't you think, Your Highness?'

I squint at her, 'so you can actually accomplish killing me?'

'God, you're still hung up on that?'

I begin to wonder whether this girl has lost her mind completely. She must be a lunatic. ' Well it's not everyday that a princess bursts into my bedroom with a gun. It is a hard memory to forget.'

The way she smiles at me is as if she is hoarding a secret. Or teasing me about it.

There is a long and awkward silence and I begin to trace the spine of my book anxiously.

'Laila, why don't we take a peruse of these marvellous rose buds?' Miere quickly says. He takes out her hand and starts to beckon her towards the middle of the garden. Laila opens her mouth to protest, but he is speaking so fast about the flowers that she is left confused.

'It is only for a moment, Laila,' Bel says to her.

'It will be fine,' I assure the girl.

Miere nods and grins at her, 'now let's take a look at them!' And they are off.

Bel walks towards me and takes shade beneath the tree. She is standing beside me, so I turn to face her, aware that she can see the horribleness of my face up close. But she acts like she does not notice.

'D-did you want to discuss something?' I say, gulping and fidgeting with my book. I take a small step away from her.

She exhales quietly and squints at me, 'I had no idea your mother was using me to do that to you. If I had known, then-

'Really, there is no need,' I say, lowering my eyes, 'it is quite alright. Besides, it is not your concern.'

'Fine,' she says, 'but I saw your face. You know, you are quite useless at masking your feelings.'

'This is beginning to sound less like you are taking pity on me, and more like a parade of insults.'

'You clearly don't know the difference between an insult and an observation.'

'Yes, neither do you.'

She laughs and looks up at the leaves of the tree, and the sunlight filtering through them. When it shines on her, I realise that her eyes are a cacophony of browns-like wood on fire.

'You really have no idea what happened with my mother, do you?' she asks me

It takes me awhile to answer. There are lines of grief on her face. 'No,' I say quietly, 'was she killed?'

She looks at me but she does not answer. Without telling me, though, I already know what the answer is.

'Bel, are you really sorry for not having killed me?' I ask her

A small sighing noise escapes her, like she is thinking carefully about it, 'not anymore,' she says, 'you clearly had nothing to do with it. It was a mistake on my part.' She looks at me with conviction. 'But I will find out the truth.'

'Oh...If I can be of any assistance then-

'You would help me?' she furrows her brow at me, startled.

'Anything to get under my mother's skin,' I say.

'Well then,' she says, 'if you ever need a favour.'

'I'll be sure to ask,'

She smiles at me.

And funnily enough, I think we have become friends.


	11. Chapter 11 - Bel's POV

There has been no word of my sister, so I feel it is safe for me to assume that she and Lady Elana have successfully escaped.

When Sebastian said my name, I thought I felt a strange flutter in my stomach. It was the way he said it. He sounded desperate and sincere and for a moment I could not believe I almost took his life. But there is a new understanding between us—one that I did not dare expect. Most of what I feel for him though, is pity. I can only imagine what it is like to have a mother like his, and the scar he has to live with. I wanted to ask him how he got it or whether he was born with it. But such a topic is hardly made for garden conversation.

Without my weapons, I feel thoroughly naked and exposed and uncomfortable. To know that I have no protection weighs heavily on my mind, but I realise that I cannot escape the castle just yet. Not until I know that happened to my mother. Not until I know who took her from me, Melia and Papa. I have to find out. I must.

The Queen has not spoken to me yet, but everywhere I turn, Laila is standing or sitting there. She even sleeps in my room. I manage, however, to swipe two pieces parchment and ink before excusing myself to use the facilities, where she absolutely cannot follow me.

Inside, I quickly write down a letter, explaining that I am safe, and asking whether Lady Elana and Melia have gotten back safe as well as news of our kingdom. I think of Nesto and his father and my stomach churns. His father was in cahoots with the Queen, and if she finds out that it was me who killed them, then what is stopping her from killing me? She does not seem like the sort of woman who is particularly frightened about sparking a war. She seems far too sure of herself. For a moment, it even reminds me of myself and makes me shudder.

I also write a short not for Sebastian.

The only thing I have to do now is find the maid who let us in. If she can deliver this letter to Toria, then Toria can somehow get the message to Lady Elana. I realise that I cannot ask Sebastian for help. We might have some common understanding, but he still holding me captive. I resolve to sneaking out whilst Laila is sleeping. And although there may be guards, the castle is riddled with doors adjoining to different rooms, and I have enough time to come up with a strategy.

When I walk out, with the letter stuffed into my dress, Laila is standing in front of me. 'Oh god,' I mutter, 'you didn't have to wait outside, Laila. I'm not going to run away.'

'I have strict orders, my lady,' she says, 'was told not to leave you for very long and shouldn't have left you with the prince, absolutely not.'

I smile at her, 'well I'm hardly going to harm him, am I?'

'You almost killed him, my lady.'

'Yes,' I snapped, 'and I wish people would stop bringing that dreadful thing up.'

Laila opens her mouth to protest that she meant no offence, but it comes out as a nervous jumble of words.

'Laila, are you carrying weapons on you?' I ask

'A blade, my lady,' she says pointedly, 'ju-just in case, of course.'

I frown, 'you would you use it on me?'

Laila takes a moment to think about it, 'well I wouldn't like to of course, my lady, but I'm under strict orders, you know.'

'Very well,' I smile slightly, linking arms with her, 'but do you think I could have an audience with the prince? Of course, you would be there. But I would love to speak to him again.'

'W-well I'm not very sure about that, my lady. You see, the prince liked to spend most of his time alone. He can sometimes have quite the temper—oh no, I should be saying nothing of this sort. It's treason.'

We pause in the middle of hallway and she puts a hand over her mouth as if she has sinned. I take it down from her face, 'pull yourself together, Laila,' I say, 'you're describing his personality. It's fact, not an opinion. And therefore, it is not treason. Besides, how could that ever bring harm to him?'

Pressing her mouth into a line, Laila sighs and nods. Her eyebrows knit tightly together. 'I suppose you are right, my lady.'

'I always am!'

She blinks at me.

'Well, usually,' I snap, 'now will you take me to him? Or will I have to drag you there with me?'

'He'll be in his library,' Laila says, looking towards the stairs, 'he's always in there.'

I almost laugh, 'he has his own library?'

'Yes, my lady, he does. Shall I take you?'

'You may.'

I looked up at the closed doors of his library. The polished wooden doors are carved intricately and I run my hands over them before knocking. Beside me, Laila shuffles uncomfortably and then she begins to bite her nails—a habit I'd learned she could not break.

'He might not want to see you,' Laila says, 'he hates being interrupted when he is reading.'

'Well he will have to make an exception,' I say, staring at the door.

We wait a few seconds and I begin to tap the floor with my foot impatiently.

The door opens and Sebastian looks at my foot, 'please stop doing that, it'll give me a headache.'

'Charming, as ever.'

Sebastian is wearing very casual clothes. A loose white cotton shirt and dark trousers. In his hand, he is holding that book again. His facial defect looks very pink because of the heat, and the dark vein-y lines inside of it are clearer. For a moment, I just look at the way they trail down to his chest. I can see them through his shirt, and they stop at his heart.

He smiles, though it is humourless. 'Is there something you want, Bel?' he asks, not unkindly. He says my name as if he knows me completely and utterly.

'To talk to you.'

'Why?' he frowns.

'Why not?'

I keep my gaze fixed on him.

He looks back into his library and then back at me before sighing resignedly. Reluctantly, he steps aside, and opens the door for Laila and I, and we walk inside.

Sebastian's library is huge and dark. It is circular, and the in the middle, it is furnished with dark chairs and tables. Surrounding it, there are steps which lead to the wall to ceiling shelves of books, and there is a ladder leading to a balcony which goes all around the library. The big window is curtained.

'You should really let some light in here,' I say, stepping down into the furnished area of his library.

'I'd rather not,' he says from behind as he shuts the door.

I turn around to face him, 'it's quite a place you have here. I haven't seen anything like it.'

Sebastian avoids my gaze, and looks at his feet. 'I—thank-you,' he mumbles.

'Did you design it?'

'I had help,' he says, stepping down to join us in the middle. He passes by me, and his shoulder brushes mine.

'W-would you like me to order some tea for you?' he asks, still avoiding having to look at me, 'or would you—

'I'm perfectly fine, thank-you,' I smile, 'though; you could open up those curtains a bit more. I can scarcely see you in this dark.'

Finally, he looks at me, but there's a hint of anxiety in his eyes—like pleading.

'Or we could just stay in the dark,' I quickly say.

Sebastian's shoulders drop a little as his built up tension releases. For a long moment, he looks at me with an expression resembling gratefulness. He even smiles, but it gone by the time I blink.

'What did you want to talk about?' Sebastian asks. His grip around his book is tighter.

'Sorry if I've disturbed you from reading,' I say, stepping closer to him, 'I just wanted to see how you were.'

Sebastian blinks, and confusion enters his features. 'You wanted to see...how I was?'

'Yes,' I say, moving forward and up the steps towards his bookshelf. I turn around to him and fix him a smile, 'come on, then.' And he follows me.

Laila stands in the middle, looking around the library. She'd never been in it before and so is probably taking in as much detail as she can. Perhaps to report back to the queen, whose name I have just found out, is Eliza. It stuns me that I did not know it before. People only ever called her the Queen of Lores and nothing else.

Both of us face the bookshelf, and I trail my fingers across the spines. Sebastian silently watches me. When I look at him, he looks away and I see his temples moving tensely as he gulps. He's adorable.

Strange, but adorable.

'You really do love to read, don't you?'

He nods slightly. 'Don't you?'

'I prefer music,' I say, 'I adore music. It's poetry without words.'

There is a faint smile etched on his face, 'you definitely have a way with words.' He pauses. 'Do you play an instrument?'

I face him and I'm struck by his green eyes. 'The violin,' I say, 'I used to play together with my mother. She played the Cello.'

'Do you still play?'

My chest feels heavy. 'Sometimes,' I say quietly. The way he looks at me makes my heart thrum, so I turn away.

'I-I apologise if I have offended you,' he says, stepping closer. I can hear his breath and the book that he keeps fiddling with in his hands.

'Sebastian, what is in that book?' I ask, 'you're never without it.'

'It's poetry,' he says, 'but this kind has words.'

I can't help but smile. He cannot see, though, thank god.

'Read me something,' I say to him.

'Is that a demand?'

'Yes...'

He breathes a laugh and opens the book. I hear the spine crack, and then I hear his voice.

Give me life or give me death

I will kiss with every breath

And if the devils cast me out

I will pray with all my doubt

That if you sinners cast your stones

God won't be there to melt thy bones

Yet if I chose the power

Which lies all above

I would not choose god

I would choose love

I feel him tensing up beside me.

My heart stops.

He shuts the book.

I let out a short breath.

'That was—' I am lost for words, 'blasphemous. Blasphemous and...terrible in a passionate kind of way.'

I am sure he is smiling.

'Poetry usually is,' he says softly.

I reach into the bust of my dress and take out the small folded parchment—the one for Sebastian. I turn around and I hold his hand in mine. It's soft and warm. He blinks at me, startled.

I squeeze his hand before letting go again.

He opens his mouth, 'I—

'I must leave,' I cut him off, 'thank-you for speaking with me.'

Quickly, I turn around and smile wearily at Laila, who is engrossed in a mathematical instrument. We curtsey to Sebastian before leaving, but he just stares at me, lost for words.

Outside, Laila glances at me and furrows her brow. 'You alright, my lady?' she says, 'only, you look a bit out of breath.'

'I'm fine,' I say.

But then I look back at the closed door of Sebastian's library—and I realise that I am not.


	12. Chapter 12 - Sebastian's POV

Chapter Twelve - Sebastian

The door slams shut and my heart hammers. I open my hand and there is a folded up piece of parchment and I cannot open it quickly enough. Scrawled on it, is

Under the tree tonight, 2am.

I look at the door and a sharp breath escapes me. What could she possibly want? Why did she look at me like that? Why does she want to see me? I go over and over these questions and I only find that the possible answer is that she wants to speak about her mother. But I have no answers for her. Not just yet, anyway.

I have no idea how she will be able to sneak out with guards and eyes on her all the time. But she managed to break into the castle, so I try not to underestimate her. But I'm wary. Will she try to kill me again?

For some reason, something in me tells me that she would not. And though I know that I should be careful, I am compelled to listen to my instincts. I still do not know much about Bel, apart from a few simple things. But something I have recently learned about her is that she does a good job of leaving me quite breathless.

Sophia waves a hand in my face and her eyebrows knit together, 'Sebastian, what on earth is the matter with you? You've been staring at the floor for ages now.'

I blink and look at her. She cocks her head to the side and pokes my leg, 'Sebastian?'

'I'm fine, Sophia, I'm okay,' I nod, 'how is Benjie?'

'He's alright,' she says, 'but he's rather angry that I've beaten him at chess.'

I smile, 'and father?'

Sophia's smile fades and she re-adjusts herself on her chair, 'he's not looking very well, Seb,' she says, 'I head mama talking with the physician and they think he does not have very long left.'

I exhale heavily and clench my jaw, 'I'm sorry,' I say quietly.

'It's not your fault, Seb, you mustn't say that!'

But she's wrong. It is my fault.

'Seb, don't look at me like that.'

'I'm sorry.'

She lets out a frustrated noise, 'he's your papa as well. I don't know why mama keeps him from you so much.'

'I'm sure you know why,' I say, 'she's upset.'

'But she has no right.'

'She has every right.'

'Why don't you do something?'

'What can I do? There's nothing I can do, Sophia.'

'Well, try! You never try! You just sit there with your stupid books in your stupid library, moaning about everything. Why won't you just do something?!'

It feels as if she's slapped me, and I just stare at her, aghast. But not because of the hurt, but because of how right she is. My face goes hot with shame. 'Maybe you should go and get some rest,' I say quietly.

She slits her eyes at me and scoffs incredulously.

'So you're ashamed of me too?'

An expression of utmost earnest appears on her face, and she gives me a look of mounting annoyance. 'How could you ask me that?'

I don't know how to reply.

She scoffs at me and leaves.

'Tsk,' Miere makes a disapproving noise, but I don't bother giving him the time of day. He'll lecture me and tell me of things I already know but will not care to admit to him. But I do admit them inside, because it is much harder to admit your wrong doings to other people than it is to yourself. Being privately disgusted by your own behaviour is one thing, but having everybody else disgusted by it, can leave you ruined.

'Has the meeting finished?' I ask Miere.

Miere looks at the time and purses his mouth, 'it should be finished now. Your mother will be in her study.'

'Take me,' I say, heaving myself up from my chair. I touch my face and feel like coiling into myself.

'You look tense, are you okay? Maybe you need a massage, I could arra-

'I'm fine.'

He gives up with a shrug, and walks me up the winding staircase, but he glances at me so much that I know he itching to ask me something.

'What is it then?' I say.

He looks shocked.

'Come on, drop the act, Miere. What do you want to say?'

He exhales heavily, realising he is defeated, 'okay—well—you see—I simply wondered what the princess of Abel was doing in your library.'

I stop and turn to him, 'how do you know that she was in my library?'

'It's a small castle.'

'No it isn't.'

'Considering.'

'Considering what?'

He tightens his mouth, 'are you purposefully being evasive?'

'Perhaps,' I say, carrying on up the stairs, 'now hurry! I must talk with mother.'

I hear him mumbling behind me when we are standing outside of my mother's study. The door is open and I wait as two royal advisors leave the room. As they pass, they bow respectfully without looking at me, and walk away quickly.

'Are you doing to stand there idly or are you going to get in here and tell me why you are here?' my mother called from inside of the study.

Miere rolled his eyes and beckoned me forward. Inside, mother was sat at her large desk. There was not a paper out of place. The windows were open and the light curtains flitted in the wind, but it did not help the heat. The nape of my neck felt damp when I touched it.

I put my hands in my pockets and gazed at her as she scrawled on some parchment, pretending I was not in the room.

'Borrowing more money?' I ask

I smile forms on her lips, but it is without humour and full of contempt. 'The kingdom needs it,' she says, challenging my stare, 'and it is hardly as if the crown prince is doing a thing about it, is it?'

'Perhaps I would if you let me.'

'Perhaps you should take charge instead of expecting thing to be handed to you on a platter, Sebastian.'

I pretend not to hear that. 'It is futile to spend money on an army if its purpose is to protect a kingdom of dying people.'

'Oh Seb, that's wonderfully poetic,' she says, resting a chin on her hand, 'really, quite wonderful. You should write it somewhere. Perhaps you'll be poet one day, hm?'

'Well it would work in your favour, because then there would be nobody challenging you to rule the kingdom.'

She laughs, 'you speak as if you do that in the first place.'

I bit the inside of my lip. 'We need to spend the money we borrow on the people. Not armies.'

Mother gets up from the table and walks towards the open window. The slight breeze ruffles her hair. 'The King of Abel wants his daughter back and he might come to battle. We need to be prepared.'

'Why don't you just put a ransom on her instead of letting it go to battle?'

'Because I do not want a ransom for her.'

My brows knit together in confusion and I almost step forward but stop myself. 'W-well what do you want her for then?'

She looks at me and a smile appears again, 'I will have her married to the King of Castor. He is looking for a new bride.'

'You would use her to pay the kingdom's debt?!'

'Is that anger I hear in your voice, dear child?' she laughs, 'you haven't grown fond of her, have you? Do not think I did not see you both chattering to each other in the garden. It looked sweet, really. Especially since she did try to kill you.'

She takes in my expression and sighs morosely before walking towards me. She takes my hands in hers, and for the first time, she looks at me like I am her son—like she cares. My heart leaps like an infant. 'A girl like that would only break your heart, my child. I only want the best for you—to protect you. Do you really think she would not exhaust every opportunity to try and hurt you again? You must not play into her tricks. Be careful.'

I think about it, 'so why don't you keep her locked up?'

'Oh Sebastian, you know that cruelty is not in my nature.'

Ha. I want to laugh in her face. But I pretend that I believe her because that is the best thing to do. I am uncertain about Bel, and I cannot for the life of me understand the girl.

Yet, I suffer the strangest palpitations when I think of meeting her beneath the tree tonight.

'Besides,' mother carried on, 'she is of royal descent. It would be unkind to treat her like a pauper. When the King of Castor arrives in two weeks time, I want her ready. He will expect his blushing bride to have been treated well, won't he? We might just leave out that she is an assassin though. Goodness, imagine if she tries to kill him!' mother laughs, sweetly and cruelly.

My stomach twists.

'It's wrong,' I say, taking my hands away from hers, 'we cannot force her to marry this man. God, his son is older than Bel.'

She frowns and touches my face. The side without the mark. 'But it must be done, my dear,' she says, 'when your little brother ascends to the throne, I do not want to leave him ridden with debt. Imagine what it would do to him, and to Sophia. We would have to give her away, and none of us want that. You care for them just as I care for them, and I know that on this matter, we agree wholly, don't we?'

Though I want to hurl something across the room, I nod meekly. 'You cannot expect her to marry him without a struggle,' I say in a gravelly voice, 'she will protest greatly.'

She ignores what I say.

'Sometimes, Sebastian, I wish it were you who were going to ascend to the throne. I do wish it.'

I smile, shaking my head weakly, 'no you don't,' I say, 'you never have—let's not lie to each other.'

She squeezes my hand and smiles, 'very well, my dear.'


	13. Chapter 13 - Bel's POV

Though Queen Eliza did not join us for dinner, I never spoke a single word. Various times, Sebastian gave me blank looks and tore his eyes away again. The room was filled with Sophia's chatter, and Benjie complaining about the lack of desserts.

It was important to pretend that nothing happened between me and Sebastian. The letter, for the moment, would live as a figment of our imagination. If anybody caught us acting strangely around each-other, it would be cause for concern. I need his help.

When dinner finished, Benjie caused a ruckus, and I managed to slip a cheese knife into my sleeve. Laila helps me dress for bed, and she readies herself for sleep as well. Tonight, there is only one guard outside of our door. Queen Eliza must be quite confident that I will not try anything. Being co-operative has worked well in my favour.

I lie in the feather bed and begin to breathe as if I am sleeping. Slow soft exhales and inhales, which puts Laila's mind at ease, thus allowing her to fall asleep quicker. Routinely, I check the time, but it seems to move slower than ever. The humidity does nothing but irritate me and I feel my hair growing frizzier as the seconds pass. Finally, it is 1:30 am. I make a coughing noise, to make sure she is asleep. Laila is not stirred by the noise, so I begin to ease myself out of the bed and tiptoe across the floor towards the door to the adjoining room. Earlier on in the day, I managed to escape Laila's watchful gaze, and checked the rooms. There were no sheets on the bed and no people were staying in them, which meant I would have no rude interruptions when trying to go about my business.

The cheese knife, which I have sharpened, is in my hand and the letter as well. I open the adjoining door and creep inside. I do the same thing seven times, until I have reached the end. I pace towards the door which leads into the hallway, and silently pray that the guard is too far away to see me. I push the door open put my foot forward. My head leans out, and I see the guard. He is far away, but he is facing the other direction. I waste no time, and run out and to my left, where there are doors which lead to the servant's quarters. Not a single person seems to be awake, but I must find somebody to tell me where the girl is, so I can give her the letter. The walls are lined with dim lanterns, and at the end of a narrow corridor, I see a shadow and run towards it. It is a boy, younger than I.

When he sees me, his mouth falls open as if he is about to shut, but I put my hand over his mouth and push him up against the wall.

'Don't scream,' I whisper, 'I will not hurt you. Now, I'm going to take my hand off, alright? I just want to talk.'

I move my hand and his mouth quivers, 'm-my lady,' he says, 'y-you aren't meant to be down here.'

'Do you know a red haired girl with freckles?'

He blinks, 'Mabel?'

'Yes. Bright red hair.'

'She's the only one,' he says, pushing himself up against the wall.

'Where can I find her?'

'You go left, then up a few stairs and then right and it's the fourth door, my lady.'

I frown at him.

He goes red. 'I-I only know 'cause I—

'It doesn't matter,' I say, 'just take me there.'

He doesn't move.

'Now.'

Hastily, he takes me to her door, and I knock quietly. She appears and her eyes widen like she's intoxicated. When her eyes fall on the boy, she almost loses it.

I turn to him, 'never speak of this to anyone,' I whisper, 'you are a smart young boy, I can tell. So it would be wise of you to keep this to yourself. Especially if you value your life.'

He nods, terrified.

'I'm not the enemy, you know.'

But it does not look like he believes me, so I give up. I gesture my head towards the end of the corridor, 'now go,' I say. And he hurries away.

When he disappears, I take out my letter and place it in her hand. 'Mabel,' I whisper, 'I need you to deliver this to a woman named Toria.'

Mabel steps out into the corridor and closes the door behind her. 'My lady, have you lost your senses?!' she hisses, 'if they find you, they shall not hesitate to pierce a bullet through your head.'

'They would not,' I whisper back. 'It would not be in the favour to do so. I am being held in ransom, I believe. But I need you to deliver this letter to Toria, and tell her to deliver it to Abel. To the castle. Ask her whether she has seen Melia and Lady Elana.'

Anxiety clouds Mabel's features and lines of distress etch her face. But she nods all the same. 'Alright, my lady. We are going into town tomorrow, so I shall make sure it gets to Toria. I stayed with her a bit, before coming here. She pulled strings and got me the job.'

'Right, fantastic,' I say, 'I'll just go now. Thank-you.'

'The pleasure is mine, my lady,' she curtseys, 'now hurry, you must get back right away before your handmaiden realises you are gone.'

I swat a hand, 'it will be fine, and she's a deep sleeper.'

'Handmaiden's that are used to spy always sleep with one eye open, my lady,' Mabel says before going back into her room.

I shudder and head towards the servants entrance towards the castle garden. I am sure that Sebastian knows where to meet me. The only tree we spoke under was the one right at the edge, which he sat beneath, pretending that he was not staring whilst Laila and I took a walk. I examine the open space. There are guards right on the end, but none on the edges. I hold my nightgown up a little as I crouch and run past the pond and towards the string of trees. As I approach, I see a figure standing there.

He came.

Sebastian stares at me as I near him. He is wearing black night-robes and is biting his bottom lip.

I am under the tree, standing right opposite him, and his green eyes examine my face. I smile, 'I did not think you would come.'

'I admit that I was hesitant,' he says.

Suddenly he jolts backwards and looks at me, horrified. His eyes are on the cheese knife in my hand. I quickly throw it a metre away from me and hold up my hands. 'I'm not going to try and kill you, Sebastian, you have my word.'

His fists unclench and he exhales deeply, 'for god's sake, Bel,' he says. He squints at me, 'why are you grinning? This is funny to you?'

I shrug, 'just a bit,' I say, 'you have a poor sense of humour, Seb.'

He blinks at me.

I fear I have said something wrong, 'what?'

He gulps and lowers his eyes, 'no-nothing.' He looks behind and then back to me, 'it isn't safe here. Follow me.'

I frown at him suspiciously.

'Hey, I wasn't the one carrying a cheese knife, okay? Somebody might see us out here.'

I purse my mouth, considering his comment. 'Fair point,' I say, following him. I am about to pick up the knife but he calls out, 'and leave the knife!'

I let out a sharp breath through my teeth.

Sebastian leads me to an ivy covered door that I did not notice to be there. The whole wall is painted with ivy, that nobody could have known that there was an entrance. He holds open the door for me, but he goes in first, to lead the way.

'Be careful,' he says, 'there are stinging nettles.' He looks down at my feet, 'you know, you could have worn shoes.'

'Well forgive me for letting it slip my mind. I was trying to get past your bloody armed guards after all.'

'With a cheese knife, no less,' he adds, letting out a short laugh.

'Hilarious,' I deadpan, 'now will you please carry on?'

We seem to be walking through a tunnel of some sort, made of leaves and mangled branches until we reach an opening.

I catch my breath.

'A secret garden?' I say, taking in the rose bushes and the big red oak tree and the small ones around it. There is a small hill and then a dry fountain broken fountain with a cherub atop it.

'Not many people know it is here. Nobody apart from Sophia and I venture here,' he says.

He takes a small leap over a small dry moat where water would have run in the past.

'I should have worn shoes,' I mumble.

He smiles, 'well it slipped your mind' he says, reaching out his hand. He does not give me the hand of his which is marked with purple veins. He almost does, but quickly switches it with the other. 'Here, let me help,' he says.

I place my hand on his, and his thumb grazes my knuckle softly as he helps me. When I leap over, I almost slam into him, but I steady myself. My hand is still in his, and our chests are almost touching. There are flecks of brown in his eyes.

He quickly parts from me, embarrassed, and turns around towards the dry fountain. I follow behind.

'So,' he begins. He keeps his eyes on the fountain. He looks ashamed. Even in the dark, I can see how the unmarked side of his face has flared scarlet, despite his futile attempts to hide it. Somehow, it is strangely endearing.

'I need you to find out what you can about my mother,' I say, 'as fast as you can.'

'I will,' he says.

I bite my lip and trace the cracked stone of the fountain with my fingers, 'also,' I exhale, 'why is your mother keeping me here? What use am I to her? Ransom? Has she asked my father for money?'

He opens his mouth to speak, but then pauses. 'No,' he finally says, 'I am not sure yet. Though, I shall do my very best to find out for you.'

'That's very kind of you,' I say.

Sebastian clears his throat to appear serious, but a faint smile traces his lips.

'Anytime,' he says.


	14. Chapter 14 - Sebastian's POV

I am unsure as to whether Bel is taunting me or flattering me. When she looks at me, she really looks at me and does not tear her eyes away. It is not like the others, whose eyes I feel are burning into me. Instead, hers seem to be canvassing me, looking for details in the depths. It can be unnerving. It could also be one of her tricks. Though, somehow, I feel it isn't.

Her hand is dangerously close to mine as she traces the rough rock of the fountain. I remove my hand and clasp them behind my back before giving her a sidelong glance. She sighs and looks behind her, and then walks towards the hill beside the red oak tree. I bite my lip and straighten myself, following her slowly.

She turns around and smiles at me. I can see the curve of her body through her white nightgown. My face goes hot and my heart thumps and I direct my attention towards her face.

'Sebastian?' she asks

I draw in a strained breath. 'Yes?'

Bel looks at the floor before looking up at me, with her brows knit together and her mouth closed tightly. 'Do you think what I do is monstrous?'

The question hits me from left field and I'm entirely unsure of how to answer her. I open my mouth but I hesitate so much that I'm sure she can see how red I have gone. But she just looks at me plainly, waiting for my answer like it is the only answer that matters.

'I—well—' I sigh and try again. 'Yes.'

'Hmm.' Her eyes drop. She smiles but there is no happiness or humour in it. She was expecting that answer.

'However,' I continue, pacing towards her, 'a person may do monstrous things, but it does not necessarily make them a monster. It is the contents your soul that counts. But perhaps there is a monstrous thing in all souls which one can never be rid of.'

She smiles at me, 'you have a charming way with words.'

I shrug.

'You're certainly no monster,' she says. Her voice is kind.

I laugh and bow my head, 'many would disagree with you.'

'Their opinions do not matter,' she says

'And yours does?'

'If you would like it to.'

My chest feels heavy as if I am being dragged down to the floor. I go and sit down on the hill, beside the spot she is standing. She looks down at me and then sits as well, bringing her knees to her chest.

'I want to go home,' she says.

'You will,' I say. But the words are like a knife twisting in my stomach. I know what my mother plans to do with her, yet somehow I cannot find the words to tell her.

She looks at me. Her brown eyes are ablaze in the dark. 'Will you help me?'

I blink, but I do not waver, 'I will,' I say.

She puts her hand over mine. I flinch because of the marks on my hand, but she holds it tightly, 'thank-you, Sebastian.'

She lets go.

Though I do not tell her what my mother plans, my words are true. I will help her escape—I know that I will, despite the consequences that might follow.


	15. Chapter 15 - Bel's POV

Chapter Fifteen - Bel

'Why are you smiling so much, my lady?' Laila asks me in the morning as she helps me into a robin's egg blue dress with a white strip at the waist.

I bite my inner cheeks to stop myself, 'am I not allowed to smile?'

'Well, begging your pardon, my lady, but hostages aren't usually ones to smile.'

I glance at my pillow. The cheese knife is beneath it. God only knows what Laila would do when she finds out. I wish she could be my honest friend because I so badly want to tell somebody what happened last night. It feels like a dream, or like embers that I am carrying around with me after a great fire.

I am also wildly anxious about father, Melia and Lady Elana. How are they? And how is Isis, who still might not be able to look at me the same? It feels as though there is a heavy stone lodged in my chest. It will take a week at the most for a reply, and papa might visit to pay whichever ransom price that Queen Eliza has put on my head.

At breakfast, Sebastian walks in late, with a book in his hand. Queen Eliza does not join us because of an early meeting which she seemed to be dizzyingly stirred about it. I could see it in her eyes. They just kept widening and widening the more she spoke.

'What is the meeting about?' I ask Sebastian, who is pouring himself tea

He freezes mid-way. His arm in the air, with a hand wrapped around the teapot handle. He almost floods his cup.

'It's about me, isn't it?' I ask

Sebastian looks at Laila, and his valet, Miere, who are standing against the walls with their hands clasped in front of them. He looks back at me and gives me a strange look.

'They talk about everything,' Sophia says. She has her hair in braids today and keeps undoing them and then doing them again. 'But we're never allowed to sit in. Sebastian might be able to one day, but he just hates those sorts of things.'

I smile at Sebastian, who looks embarrassed, 'political affairs aren't your thing, Prince Sebastian?'

He coughs and looks down at his cup, 'I-I'd just rather not be involved. Politics is a practice of lying and manipulation. It is practically built upon those two things.'

I bit into my toast, 'that's a very interesting philosophy,' I say, 'but if one wishes to change such things, shouldn't one be actively involved?'

The corner of his mouth tips into a small smile, 'I suppose one should. If they can, of course.'

'And you can.'

Sophia shook her head, 'no he—

'For god's sake, Sophia, concentrate your energy on Benjie for the moment. He has eggs on his lap,' Sebastian cuts in.

Benjie giggles. I wonder whether he has forgotten about what happened that night. He seems calm around me now, and does not stare or look frightened when I enter the room. I am surprised that Queen Eliza will even have me around him and Sophia.

His tone is harsh and cold. But what was Sophia about to say? That Sebastian could not be in court? I wonder whether it is because they would not like to look at his face, or whether it goes deeper than that.

I avoid speaking to him for the rest of breakfast, and the tension is so thick you could cut through it.

'Forgive me,' he says, 'my tone with Sophia was harsh.'

'With all due respect, Your Highness, It is her you should be apologising to.'

Sebastian blinks at me, shocked by the sudden wall I've put up between us with the simple use of the phrase, 'Your Highness.'

He presses his mouth together and nods, but he does not apologise to her. Too much pride.

I slightly shake my head and take my napkin from my lap and place it beside my plate.

'D-do you plan on doing anything interesting today?'

'No,' I say, 'absolutely nothing, so I should expect that I would be bored right out of my mind.'

He opens his mouth to reply but I turn my back to him and call Laila. She scurries towards me and I leave the room with her. There is a bitter aftertaste in my mouth after being so cold with him. But I cannot let myself get attached to him. I can't. And so I push down whatever emotion begins to surface when I am near him or thinking of him.

There are ladies of the court walking around the castle with their handmaidens. They never speak, let alone look at me, and I cannot blame them very much. Queen Eliza has probably filled them in about what I have done, and quite possibly the plans that she has with me. I have tried asking Laila what she knows, but her face goes red and she quickly changes the conversation.

Laila and I spend most of our time in the castle garden, and for the rest of the day, I anxiously wait for news. Thoughts of Sebastian irregularly drift through my mind, but with nothing else to do, I cannot really help it. When I think of the marks on his face, my body shudders. But when I think of who he is despite the defects, the revulsion disappears.

Laila did tell me that he Sebastian has a temper, but I had no proof to believe it when we visited him in his library. But the way he snapped at Sophia showed me that Laila was perhaps a little right. But not only that—he reminds me of Melia, and then I realise how much I miss my sister, and how completely alone I feel.

After having lunch outside, Laila and I share a pot of tea, when Miere suddenly appears at our table. He grins and bows to us. Laila hides a smile.

'My lady,' he begins, 'Prince Sebastian would like an audience with you in his library.'

My stomach flips, but my expression remains stoic, 'why does he want to see me?' I ask Miere.

He shrugs, 'he did not tell me, my lady. If you would like to know, then perhaps you should follow me to his library, along with your companion.'

You mean spy, I think.

I look at Laila, and her eyebrows are raised and she nods at me like she wants me to go. I am surprised by this, but I know that she will not hesitate to tell Queen Eliza of mine and Sebastian's meeting. I'm just thankful that she has no idea about the secret garden.

As we follow Miere to Sebastian's library, I whisper to Laila, 'why are you intent on me seeing him?'

Laila leans in, 'you've been bored all day, my lady. And after this morning, I thought it best that you were on good terms with the prince again. It would work in your favour.'

I scoff quietly, 'because he's so dangerous, isn't he?'

She says nothing, and at once I know that this conversation is over.

The doors for Sebastian's library are slightly ajar when we approach them. Miere does not bother to hide his smile, and pushes open the door for Laila and me to walk inside. He looks straight past me and right at Laila, who lowers her eyes in shyness.

In the library, Sebastian is standing in front of his bookshelf, examining his collection of novels. When he hears us coming inside, he turns around and his face wears an innocent and childlike expression. He bites his lip and begins to make his way towards us.

I try to take in a breath, but somehow it is caught in my throat and I want to kick myself because I need to pull it together. I concentrate on his defect, and somehow this eases my anxiety. Sebastian's steps get louder, and finally, he is in front of me.

'Lady Bel, Prince Sebastian' Miere says with a comical bow. I honestly wonder whether this valet has ever had a serious moment in all his life

I curtsey and Sebastian bows. He reaches out his hand, the one with the purple veins, and I'm startled but do not let it show. I place my hand on his and he smiles at me and I wish he would not. 'I would like to show you something,' he says.

For a moment, I cannot say anything. My fingers gently graze the back of his hand and he tenses up. Somehow, it makes me feel better that I am not the only anxious person. In fact, it gives me the upper hand and I can use it to my advantage.

'Well why don't you show me then?' I smile wickedly at him

Miere and Laila stay in the middle of the library and he beckons her to take a seat as he shows her some of Sebastian's scientific and mathematical devices, which he has plenty of.

Sebastian's hand is soft, and his hold around mine is strong but gentle.

'We'll have to climb the ladder,' he says, 'why don't you go first? If you fall, I would be able to catch you.'

I arch an eyebrow at him, 'Sebastian, you do remember who you are talking, don't you?'

He blinks for a second and then gasps quietly, 'oh, right—assassin.'

'I wish you wouldn't use that word. It's so vulgar.'

'What word would you prefer me to use?'

'I would prefer you to use a phrase—The Iron Daughter.'

I don't wait for his expression, and begin to climb the ladder. In a matter of seconds I have reached the balcony. I look down at him, and he is still on the floor. 'Well what are you waiting for?' I call down to him, 'frightened, are we?'

He throws me a mocking smile and proceeds to climb up the stairs. Poor Sebastian—his coordination is the worst I have ever seen. He slips once, almost slips three times, and when he is finally at the top, I have to hold on to him and pull him up to the balcony.

'You're really good at this, aren't you?' I say to him with a hand on my waist.

He presses his mouth tightly to unsuccessfully hide a smile. 'Hilarious,' he murmurs as he brushes past me. I follow him as we walk along the balcony, until we are at the east of his library. I watch Sebastian closely as he reaches up his hand and pulls out a book. He glances at me and I realise I have been staring. I nod at him nonchalantly and he goes back to wiping the book with his sleeve.

'Why did you really send for me, Sebastian?'

He stops wiping the book and his expression quickly changes to solemnity. 'I wanted to apologise,' he says quietly, 'my behaviour this morning was uncouth.'

I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off—

'I have apologised to my sister. You were right about that. It doesn't do well to apologise first to the person who had to witness such behaviour than to apologise to the person who was on the receiving end of it.'

I draw in a quick breath and exhale deeply. My mouth falters into a smile.

I manage a nod.

What is he doing to me?


	16. Chapter 16 - Sebastian's POV

I open the book and edge closer to Bel, who smells of honey and lemon. She grins at me, waiting for me to show her what I made her climb up that ladder to see. I dare say though, that I was quite embarrassed at my awful climbing. But she laughed it off and I somehow forgot that it had happened.

The book is leather bound and old and dusty, but when I open it to the first page, there is a small flash of light. Upon the browned paper, there is not writing, but a window of sorts. On the other side, the story begins and you see characters beginning to speak to each other. As it happens, on the bottom, writing appears, narrating the story.

Bel gasps and covers her mouth. Her eyes widen ecstatically and she stares at me and laughs, 'bloody hell!' she says, 'what on earth...?'

'It's magic,' I whisper to her.

She looks back at the book and then glances at me again. There is a wide grin on her face and I can't help but laugh quietly, 'are you surprised?'

'Surprised?' she laughs, 'I am shocked, astonished, suspicious and perplexed all at once.'

'What a myriad of things to feel,' I say, 'you must be going dizzy.'

Bel turns the page and watches the writing appear and silent conversations of those in the mirror. 'It's incredible,' she says, 'I have never in all my life seen magic in the form of books.'

'Books in themselves are a form of magic,' I say to her, 'but you must take this with you. Perhaps it will relieve you of the boredom you suffer during your...confinement here.' The word confinement almost catches in my throat.

Gently, I close the book and push it towards her. Bel's eyebrows knit together, 'are you sure?' she says, 'this seems very—

I shrug, 'It's fine, really. Take it. But before you go, meet me in the secret garden tonight at 2am. Hopefully I will have news of your mother.'

She gives me a thankful smile and nods, 'until tonight.'


	17. Chapter 17 - Bel's POV

For hours that I can barely remember passing, I sit in the garden with Laila, beneath the shade, reading and watching the story unfold in the queer book that Sebastian gave me. Laila keeps peering over to take a look, but I want to keep it to myself and so I keep moving away or blocking her view with my shoulder.

The book tells the tale of a regular village girl who stumbles across pauper who turns out to be a prince! I savour every single page and watch and read her surprise when she finds out who he is and why he was dressed as a pauper. I am compelled to let myself finish the book, but I force myself to shut it so I can save the rest for later.

'Is that all he was showing you, my lady?' Laila asks me as we prepare for sleep. She dusts my sheets and plumps up my pillow. I tense, but then I realise that I hid the cheese knife in a small incision I made in the feather bed.

I clutch the book tightly in my hand. 'That's all,' I say. 'All he ever does is talk about books. Makes it difficult to get a word in edgeways.'

Laila looks at me like she doesn't believe me, but I fix my gaze on her until she purses her mouth and lets her shoulders fall.

'What did you and Miere talk about?' I say, grinning. 'Every time he's around, you go completely scarlet and he can't stop smiling.'

Her mouth falls open, aghast that I would say such a thing, but then covers it to hide her smile. 'Don't know what you're talking about, my lady. He's a nice fellow but he does talk an awful lot of rubbish. And goodness, he says the most shocking things. If he was overheard then he'd be sent to the gallows, wouldn't he?'

I shrug, 'I suppose so,' I say.

She carries on preparing my bed, but does not comment upon it any further.

'What has he been saying?' I ask, leaning in closer. My interest is piqued.

Laila glances at me nervously and presses her mouth together to stop herself from spilling the information. 'Not sure I should say. If I did and I was heard, then—

'There's nobody here apart from me, Laila! I'm hardly going to be telling anybody, am I? I don't want to die either.'

'They wouldn't kill you.'

'They'd kill you.'

She blinks at me and her mouth slowly parts into surprise. Laila's eyes drop to the bed and she takes a breath, 'Miere was saying that Benjie is not King Frederick's son.'

My jaw drops.

'He let it slip that the Queen hasn't been particularly faithful,' she carries on. 'Oh god!' Laila squeals suddenly. She places a hand over her eyes and vigorously shakes her head so much so that is looks like its vibrating.

I grab Laila's wrist and remove her hand from her face, 'for god's sake Laila, calm down.'

She inhales deeply, 'I'm alright, I'm fine my lady, my apologies. I shouldn't be saying such things. She's my Queen and I am her servant, oh god this is terrible, my lady! Whatever will we do now that—'

I slap her lightly and she stares at me, stunned.

I clear my throat, 'you really need to tone it down a bit. Getting all flustered about it isn't going to help you. Now collect yourself and stop fussing.'

Though my words are smooth and coherent, my thoughts are nothing of the sort. The Queen was unfaithful? But Benjie looks just like Sebastian and Sophia. It was the Queen herself that neither of her children bore much resemblance to. Where they had green eyes, she had blue, and where they had dark hair, she had fair hair. But their thick cheekbones fair complexions were undoubtedly hers. I resign to brushing off the accusation. If Miere is anything like Laila describes him to be, then we cannot take much of what he says very seriously.

Early into the night, Laila drifts off. I wait until 1.45 before slipping out of my bed. I take the cheese knife out of the incision; wrap it in a small cloth before tucking it into the elastic of my undergarment. Just as the night before, I creep between the adjoining doors of the rooms until I am at the end of the hallway. The guard is still outside of our room. Queen Eliza is not stupid enough not to put one there. But he almost looks as if he wants to doze off.

Soon, I find myself in the servant's quarters and I remember the way to Mabel's room. I rap on the door and impatiently wait for an answer. I rap again and it flies open. Mabel puts a finger over her mouth and steps out into the corridor. Her mass of red hair flies everywhere as if tormented by its own personal tempest.

'Have you news?' I whisper excitedly.

She nods and smiles—her hair bobs along with each movement of her head. 'I gave the letter to Toria and say she'll be sending it as soon as possible. She saw Melia and Lady Elana before they left the city. They said they would be coming back with reinforcements to get you out.'

I put a hand to my chest and heave a sigh of relief. Now I know that they are safe. I just hope that they read my letter before sending reinforcements—which is just another word for The Iron Daughters.

I squeeze Mabel's hands and thank her. Without her, I'm not sure what I would have done.

Soon, I find myself in the gardens, crouching low and running towards the ivy encased door which leads to the secret garden. I place a hand over the leafy door and push gently. The night is cool and warm—a startling contrast to the humid daytime.

When I step forward, there is a person. In shock, I gasp and leap backwards. The person's back is turned to me, but when they turn around, I realise that it is Sebastian. His loose cotton shirt ruffles in the breeze, and the light of the moon bounces off of his dark glossy hair which curls softly.

He smiles at me.

I draw in a tensed breath.

'Hello,' he says, reaching out his hand.

I don't take his hand. Instead, I take a single leap and land on the soft mossy grass on his side.

He breaths a laugh.

My heart beats faster.

God.

I step on a sharp twig and wince. It snaps me out of my momentary mental paralysis.

Sebastian looks partially amused, 'Bel, you should probably start wearing shoes.'

'It—'

'Slipped your mind?'

A smile plays on my lips and I roll my eyes. 'Come along then,' I say, walking towards the red oak tree. I sit beneath it and so does Sebastian. He is close, but his body does not touch mine and he does not look at me. It's as if he's afraid to.

'Did you find anything out?' I ask, as I cast him a sidelong glance.

He remains still, but sighs. 'I spoke with my mother,' he says, 'I asked about your mother and she denies having anything to do with it. She knew her, though. In fact, they were friends awhile ago when they were young and on the social royalty scene.'

I scoff a laugh.

'What?'

'She's lying.'

'I suspected that as well. But she says she would never have her killed because they were good friends.'

My stomach churns. Good friends? My mother and this...Queen Eliza were good friends? I refuse to believe it.

'It's all I have right now,' Sebastian says to me, 'I'm sorry.' This time, he's looking at me directly in the eye and I feel angry and flustered at the same time.

'Will you try to find out more?' I ask

He moves closer, but barely an inch, 'Of course,' he whispers to me.

My chest tightens.

My hand is on the grass and suddenly I feel him putting his hand over mine. But he takes it away seconds later and glances at me with a look that I cannot quite discern.

'Bel...what happened to your mother?'

I draw in a breath. 'She was killed,' I say. The statement comes out so raw that I'm shocked by its simplicity.

I carry on. 'In the castle garden, right at the back, there was a small bricked house with a pond outside and chairs and tables. My mother and I would sit there in the shade and practice playing our string instruments. One day, we were playing Osman's 8th Symphony; it was a really hot day, so I went inside to get water. When I came back out, she was on the floor with her neck sliced open,' my voice begins to waver and break. 'I didn't even see who did it. I just—I tried to shake her and I kept calling out to her to say something but she—

Sebastian squeezes my hand. Tears prick my eyes but I wipe them with the back of my hand and look the other way so he won't see me.

'I'm sorry,' he says, with his hand still on mine.

My eyes sting and tears are running down my cheeks. Before I know it, he is sitting so close to me that I can feel the warmth of his body.

'Bel,' he says quietly and unsurely. He cups my face with a hand and awkwardly wipes away a tear with his thumb.

I've never felt so vulnerable. But it doesn't make me feel sick or weak or less of a person. He doesn't let me feel that way.

Leaning in closer, he whispers, 'we'll find who did it. I promise we'll find them.'

I exhale heavily and it comes out jagged. Though I smile, it is weary, and the corner of Sebastian's eye—on the unmarked part of his face—crinkles.

His hand is still on my face but it trails down to the curve of my neck. It sends currents through me and I feel so awake.

I sniff.

He laughs quietly and bites his bottom lip as his eyes linger on my face. There is a swooping feeling in my stomach, and I know what emotion is beginning to surface but I try to repel it with every fibre of my being. But it won't give.

Our noses touch and I can feel his slow breaths on my mouth. The hammering of my heart is so painful but I give it no precedence. His mouth brushes against mine. I gasp. I feel his mouth curving into a smile. His eyelashes tickle my face as they flutter.

But I can't kiss him.

I can't.

But we're so close.

His mouth parts slowly against mine, and in a breathless voice I say, 'thank-you,' and I move backwards.

He blinks, startled. 'For what?'

'For helping me. And for making that promise.'

Sebastian's eyebrows knit together and confusion etches his every feature. But then he looks away, and his face flushes with humiliation.

My chest aches.

I peel myself off of the ground and curtsey though my legs feel like liquid. 'Goodnight,' I offer.

He doesn't reply.

He's hurt.

I gulp and push down everything feeling that is rising in me. When I am by the door of the secret garden, I look back at him. He runs a hand through his hair, gets up, and disappears to the other side of the red oak tree.


	18. Chapter 18 - Sebastian's POV

Scattered splinters of mirror reflect the sun pouring in through the window. I stand in the middle of the room. My hand is bloodied, my chest feels like it might explode, my hair is dirty, and I smell of wood and soil.

When Miere steps into the room, he yelps at the sight of me, but I don't turn around to look at him.

'What...in almighty heaven...happened?' he says, standing beside me but a meter away. He covers his mouth, uncovers it, and then covers it again. His jaw hangs open and he stays that way for a few long seconds.

He analyses me. 'Why do you look so dirty? God, did you sleep in the garden?'

My chest rises and falls heavily and I walk to my bed. Miere dances around the splinters of mirror speckling the floor and rushes to my side. He takes my hand and pulls out a shard.

'Ow!'

'Don't 'ow' me,' Miere grumbles, 'you're the one who decided to punch a mirror after sleeping in the dirt. What's gotten into you? Where did you go last night? Did you suddenly decide to make friends with some raccoons?'

I press my mouth together and heave myself onto my bed. Miere folds his arm and stares at me with raised eyebrows. He heaves a sigh and throws his hands into the air before getting to work on sweeping up the shards.

I close my eyes but they fly open again. Every time I shut them, I remember her. How soft her mouth was and her laugh and how honest she seemed. But then I remember how she pulled away from me. I've never felt so ashamed and embarrassed.

When other girls rejected me, I took it with stride because I expected it. But with her, it was different. With Bel, I stupidly expected something more because I thought she saw me. But all she wanted to do was use me as a pawn for her revenge game.


	19. Chapter 19 - Bel's POV

It has been a week and I have barely seen Sebastian. He will not come out of his room, and he will not come to breakfast or dinner. Instead, he dines and lives in his library. The Queen has barely been around either. She is always in her study or in court and scarcely has time for anything else. This makes me feel uneasy, because now I know that whatever plans she has for me—they are in the works.

The day after what happened in the secret garden, Laila walked me to breakfast, and on the way, we bumped into Miere and two servants who were carrying a mirror. Miere looked concerned and the humour which always accompanied his features was nowhere to be seen.

'My ladies,' he says, as he bows to us.

'Miere, what are you doing with that mirror?'

'It is for Sebastian,' he says with a touch of exasperation.

I frown, 'does he not already have a mirror?'

'He—' Miere scratches his head, 'well he broke it.'

I choke on my words, 'he wha—?' I shake my head, 'why?'

'Why do you think?' Miere says quietly.

I freeze. He knows about Sebastian and me?

He carries on, 'he's never liked mirrors. I've lost count of how many he's broken by now. The latest one suffered at the hands of a mere pawn.'

I want to sigh in relief but all I picture is Sebastian punching a mirror and bleeding. A heavy stone lodges in my chest as I realise that I was the one who drove him to it. He must think that I could not kiss him because of how he looked. But he's wrong.

'Could I perhaps see him?'

Miere considers this for a moment but shakes his head, 'I'm afraid he is in no state for a visitor at the moment. I hardly think he even slept. He's covered in so much dirt that it's as if he was trying to dig a hole in the earth with his bare hands. I've never seen him this way. It's quite startling.'

My mouth tightens and I nod. Miere bows again and goes off with the servants holding the mirror. Sebastian must feel awful; he keeps breaking mirrors yet they keep delivering them to him. Like they want to torment him further.

'What do you think has happened to him, my lady?' Laila asks as she watches Miere disappear down the hallway.

'Perhaps somebody has hurt him.'

'Why would anybody want to do that?'

'The world is not full of kind people, Laila.'

In the breakfast room, I am alone. There are guards, and there is Laila—but there is nobody else. Sophia and Benjie eat with their mother now—I cannot blame her for not wanting to leave them with me. In a room a few doors down, many of the ladies of court dine together, but I am not permitted. Even if I did, I would not be welcome.

I have seen them look at me with contempt and disgust. But not because of what I have done—that much is clear. They don't like the way I look, and I have heard them whispering to each other when I pass them with Laila. I cannot say that it does not hurt, because it does. And each time, my gut twists with anger.

I would rather be judged by the things I have done—no matter how awful—than by the colour of my skin.


	20. Chapter 20 - Sebastian's POV

It has been a week. A tortuous sort of week. If anybody found out—if my mother found out—then she would ruin it even though it's already ruined. Maybe she'd laugh. Maybe she'd say it wasn't fair of me to feel that way. But Bel knows how I feel by now. She must.

Yet every time I think about it, I'm sickened. I could almost hear my mother chuckling in the background and clapping her hands together as if she'd watched the most comical theatre performance ever.

Miere checks my hand to see if I have healed. It's scabby, but not as disgusting as the purple veins on my other hand. 'You promise never to punch a mirror again?'

I don't say anything.

The deep gash hasn't healed yet, so Miere wraps it again after he puts ointment on it. With a deep sigh, he puts a hand on his knee and squints at me, 'I'm getting worried,' he says, 'what happened? What drove you to do that?'

I blink at the floor and then look up at him. His stare is just as insistent as it was a few seconds ago. For a moment, I swear I thought about telling him. But I didn't. Instead, I shook my head and said that it was, 'nothing.' And although I knew that he wouldn't believe me, then at least it makes him realise that I just don't want to talk about it.

Miere takes me to my mother, and we manage to catch her just before she has another council meeting. She is just about to leave her study when I knock on the door. She wrinkles her nose at me and gestures at me to come inside. I tell Miere to wait for me outside before shutting the door behind me.

'You look a mess,' is the first thing she says.

I laugh bleakly.

'The King of Castor is coming in a week and I'll not have you look worse than you already did in the first place.'

My chest tightens and dread rises in me. Not because of her jibe, but because of the reason the King is coming.

To marry Bel.

I should have told her. But now I don't even want to look at her.

'Has nobody from her Kingdom come for her?'

My mother scans me as if how I look will determine her answer. She smiles, 'no, I'm afraid not.'

I frown, 'that doesn't sound right. They obviously value her. Why would her father do nothing?'

She looks away with arched eyebrows and evades my question. 'I'm surprised she hasn't run away yet.'

She's smart enough not to try, I think. Plus, she wants to know who killed her mother.

'We will be questioning her soon,' my mother says with one of her smug shoulder hunches where she only lifts up one of them.

'On what?'

'That doesn't concern you, my dear.'

'Then why would you bring it up?' I say with mounting annoyance. I ball my hand into a fist.

'Because I adore watching you squirm,' she says.

I don't say anything.

Her grin widens and she laughs.

'Why didn't you question her before?' I ask, challenging her stare, 'it would have made more sense.'

'Oh I was busy!' she exclaimed, waving a hand around flippantly.

'Doing what?'

She cocks her head sarcastically, 'running the kingdom—

'Building debts—'

'Preparing a wedding.'

My throat closes up.

'Oh, you didn't know?' she says, 'the very week he visits, they are to be married.'

I'm afraid that I will not manage any words. I almost choke on them. 'Why so soon?' I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

'Our debts won't pay themselves, Sebastian.' she says.

'You're going to start a war.'

For a second, her eyes glitter and flash with mischief. I've underestimated her.

God knows what else she plans to do.


	21. Chapter 21 - Bel's POV

With each minute, my impatience grows with such magnitude that I am positive I will burst. I have a good mind to storm into the Queen's room and demand answers. But I must wait for word back from my father.

The wait eats away at me.

I finished reading Sebastian's book. The prince died.

I threw the stupid book across the room—Laila wanted to pick it up but I told her to leave it there and that it should never be moved from its contorted position.

We are on our way to the garden for our daily walk, which is the closest thing to exercise or training that I can get. It feels foreign but somewhat of a relief not having to get up at dawn and train.

Laila and I go down the winding staircase on the west wing of the castle, and when we come to a sunlit hallway, my heart almost stops. Laila walks onwards towards the entrance, but I look to my left and at the end of it, I see Sebastian. I wilt with relief but my stomach flips and I feel sick.

He stares back at me, but I cannot clearly see his face. We stay like this—looking at each other for a few long moments until he begins to pace towards me.

I hear Laila calling me and her voice gets louder as she approaches, but I cannot concentrate on her because all I am looking at is Sebastian. He looks awful. His hair is a mess, he looks as if he has not had a decent sleep in days, and he is sporting an unshaven look. Sebastian stops a few feet away from me and bows. There is absolutely no feeling in his face and it's like I am looking at a stranger.

'You're going to scare people walking around like that,' I say, 'Seb, you look awful.'

'It's Sebastian,' he says, not Seb.'

I blink at him in surprise. He never cared when I called him Seb once before. In fact, he seemed to have liked it.

I draw in a breath and steady myself.

Laila gasps when she enters the hallways, and covers her mouth with two hands. She then quickly curtseys and says, 'your Highness.' And assumes a position beside me.

'I haven't see you all week,' I say in a voice sounding softer than before. But I don't make it sound personal—not with Laila standing right there.

'I've been busy.'

I look down at his hand, 'busy punching mirrors.'

He clasps his hands behind his back to hide them, and his nose flares slightly as he inhales a jagged breath. 'I'm quite fine, Lady Graystar,' he says.

Lady Graystar? Now he's using my last name? What happened to calling each other by our first names? He really must be angry. But he doesn't know the situation. He doesn't realise why I could not do it.

But he's building up walls between us and acting strange and wild by punching mirrors and walking around like he'd just been pulled out of an alley.

It's stupid behaviour. Is this how he acts when he doesn't get his way?

'If you will follow me,' he says, spinning around and walking down the hallway. 'Laila, you can stay where you are,' he calls out.

His voice is passive and unfamiliar to me and it makes being angry at him an easier thing to do.

As I follow him, my shoes clack onto the marble floor. We stop a quarter of way and he stands a foot away from me. He is a few inches taller and looks down to speak to me. But neither his expression nor his tone has changed a single bit. 'They will be questioning you,' he says.

Questioning?

'On what? Why?'

'I don't know.'

He avoids eye contact.

'Why are you telling me?' I say quietly

'I thought you might want to prepare yourself.'

I blink. 'Thank-you—though I'm not sure how I can prepare myself when I don't know what I will be asked. Could you perhaps fi—'

'I'm not your servant, Lady Graystar, I'm the crown prince of this kingdom—and you are hardly a guest. I have already done you enough favours.'

He hesitates.

'Goodbye for now.'

Sebastian's words sting.

But he does not hover around.

Before I can organise a reply, he has already made his leave.


	22. Chapter 22 - Sebastian's POV

I barely survived that conversation. I can't believe I called her, 'Lady Graystar.' But acting that way seemed to be the only way to deal with it. I don't want to face her, or talk to her, or look at her. I'm too embarrassed anymore, and being cold prevents me from saying or doing anything to humiliate myself further.

I even almost hated her.

In fact, I do hate her.

...so why did I help her?

My head feels fuzzy and out of sync with my body. But I'm cleaned up now. Mother wants me to watch them question Bel—though I can't imagine why.

As we walk there, she wears an expression like she's hiding something and it puts me on edge.

'What are all these audiences that you've been having with Bel Graystar?' she suddenly asks.

'Wha—?' Before I can finish, I realise how she knows. Laila.

'She's very interested in books,' I quickly say, 'I let her borrow some so she does not get bored. That is all.'

'That's really quite sweet of you,' she says, 'and she was not...repulsed at all?'

My mother looks at me with great earnest as she asks the question.

I dig my nails into my palm. 'I think perhaps she was,' I reply.

She makes an acknowledging noise as we stop outside a heavily guarded room. I turn to her and wrinkle my brow, 'what kind of questioning is this?'

'The sort that gives me answers,' she says before walking through the door.

When I step inside, my stomach twists. Bel arms are strapped to a chair which is placed in the middle of an empty room, and in each corner, there is a guard. Standing next to her, there is a man. He has a thick neck, fine features, but greasy hair. They way he looks up and down at makes me flash with anger.

Bel doesn't look at me, but she knows I am there. I try to forge eye contact with her but she just stares at the wall. When she finally glances at me, I instantly wish she didn't.

'Why is she strapped down like that?' I whisper to my mother.

'Well I don't want her to run away, do I?' she says without looking at me.

I gulp, but my throat has closed up. With a hand, my mother beckons me to stand on the right of the room, against the wall.

So I can see what happens.

A dozen thoughts race through my mind. Will they beat her if she has no answers? What would her answers be? What will they ask her? ...will she hate me?

Her injuries from the day she burst into our lives were gone. But soon, she would have ones as fresh as new rain.

My mother glances at me and her eyes drop down to my hands, which I keep rubbing together out of nervousness. She smiles. She wants me to watch. There was always something bitter in her, but I didn't know her cruelty could reach such levels.

She raises her eyebrows at me and I give her a tight lipped smile. Once she is assured that I won't lose it, she proceeds with the questioning.

'Do you know why you're here, my dear?' she says with her hands clasped behind her. She stands tall and elegant. Everything about the way she moves is graceful. I wish I had that trait.

'Oh let me see,' Bel says, 'you let me think I'm comfortable, and then you turn the tables on me. How clichéd.'

'Jalin,' my mother says sweetly.

The man next to Bel steps forward. He raises his hand and slaps her across the face.

I gasp and step forward. There is horror on my face that I cannot hide.

My mother shoots me a glance. The guard on one corner of the wall steps towards me as a warning.

With a bitter laugh, Bel looks up at my mother. 'Very well,' she says, 'do your worst.'

'You can count on that, Lady Graystar. First,' she begins as slowly circles Bel like some sort of predator, 'I want to know what your father plans on doing next. Are there...more of you?'

'No.'

'If you will, Jalin.'

He slaps her and she lets out a small groan.

Fire boils in my stomach. I flinch, and the guard beside me moves closer to me. I wonder what he would do if I actually ran across the room. Would he kill me? Severely injure me? Knock me unconscious?

'It is in your best interest to answer my questions, dear. It will go splendidly if you do so. I assure you.'

Bel stays silent. She doesn't even squirm.

'Now, answer me.'

A smile forms on Bel's face as she looks up at my mother, 'there are more of us, you can be sure of that,' she says, 'but I don't know what my father plans next. I have no idea.'

'You're lying.'

A scoff escapes her.

'Jalin.'

This time, he slaps her twice. She has two cuts on her mouth and her face looks sore. But he doesn't stop there. He bends down in front of her and lifts up her chin with his forefinger, trails his finger down to the curve of her neck, and then down to her chest, where he starts to fumble with her dress. Bel tells him to stop, and when he doesn't, she swears at him and almost lets out a cry.

Bile rises in my stomach. I've had enough.

My mother grins at me.

Before I know it, I've run across the room and shoved Jalin across the floor. And then I turn around and slap my mother.


End file.
